Get Here
by isinshelovely
Summary: Jack Bauer met his match when he became involved with surgeon Sabrina DeLane. The Alpha male in him demanded her submission. Cassadine by birth & defiant by nature, she refused to comply. A year later, as he and ex-flame Audrey Raines prepare to say "I do," the former lovers are forced to examine if what they shared was fleeting or meant to be. (Off cannon; orig. characters)
1. Chapter 01

The former couple existed in a weird vacuum, one consisting of polite albeit stilted greetings and ever increasingly awkward farewells. On many occasions, more than one person among the tight circle of friends each had held that the latter was because of the underlying attraction—and love—which after all this time and distance existed between them still. It was an assertion neither gave any pause to; for to do so would require addressing the issues which had divided them. Issues, it seemed, that had no resolution in sight—or at the very least neither, in the other's opinion of course, was willing to make any attempt to compromise on. Which made their parting of ways all the more frustrating, for compromise was _not_ the issue; said act was a truly foreign concept to them both, as either rarely if ever engaged in said behavior when it came to their personal lives.

No, the issue at hand was—as it had been from the very beginning—submission.

He demanded nothing less; she, in turn, had attempted to give everything _but _that—attempting to negotiate in response to what he wanted from her. And as was often the case in a battle of such formidable wills, with no surrender in sight, they parted ways. In hindsight, some would say the severing of their ties to each other had been a long time coming, inevitable even. Their relationship's break was preceded by an argument—particularly nasty even by their standards—in which Doctor Sabrina DeLane questioned the validity of the thing Federal Agent Jack Bauer treasured most, that which he basically lived and died by.

His word.

He had insisted repeatedly that even though past missions had dictated he bed his current partner – the determined, tenacious dark-haired beauty Rosa Sanchez – he was in no way a potential candidate for paternity if she was indeed pregnant…

_Flashback…_

_Jack deliberately put distance between him and his maddening lover. Suddenly, the luxury hotel's massive Presidential Suite seemed to be the size of a bread box. If ever he regretted not having Sabrina reside at his place instead of the usual "family holding" hotel during her weekend stay in California, it was now. If they were at his place, he was certain she would've left long ago, her frustration getting the better of her. But they were on her turf, so that was not happening; besides, Jack sensed, for some reason it was vital he see this disagreement through. It wasn't an 'argument' as far as he was concerned; that would imply a point of view—which it was apparent Sabrina believed to be his—was erroneous._

_"It's simple to me, Jack. Either you slept with Rosa or you didn't. Which is it?"_

_"Do the damn math, Bri."_

_"I have!" she shot back._

_"Then you know I haven't been on a mission with Rosa in nearly five months…"_

_"Exactly."_

_"And that mission was more administrative than covert. I never even had to—"_

_"What, Jack? Whip out your 'gun'?"_

_Invading Sabrina's personal space, Jack came to rest in front of her, so close they were almost nose to nose. It always seemed to be that way between them; they could not deny each other physical contact. Even when the argument was one of a lighthearted nature—something this was a frighteningly far cry from._

_"Be in the same room with her," he ground out, cutting her off and ignoring her crude play on words. "That is what I was going to say!"_

_ "Well, then, Bauer, we have a problem—with your math. You said she told you if she _is_ pregnant, she's around two months along. You even said so yourself she's not involved with anyone. So, unless she _**is**_ and he's laying pipe so good she wouldn't even tell upon pain of death – and, again, _your_ words, Babe, the two of you are 'pretty tight and know just about _everything_ about each other' – given you haven't mentioned anything about her saying she's _**got**_ a new man?" Sabrina stepped back, arms folded; brow arched, her visage was a living portrait of incredulity. "Again, I say, do the math. There's only _one_ logical conclusion as I see it," she bit out. "That. Leaves. _**You**_." _

_ "And, again, _**I**_ say, either you're gonna believe me when I tell you _**I'm**_ not the father, Bri, or you're not," he hissed. "Know what? I'm fucking sick…sick and tired…of being on my knees about this—about _**every**_ fucking thing, especially when it has to do with my job!" _

_ A perfunctory blink was Sabrina's initial response. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware you've _**ever**_ been on your knees when it comes to _anything_ in this relationship." _

_ That she was unmoved was evident. Her response had been delivered in that icy, aloof manner that got under his skin like nothing he'd ever experienced before. That she'd obviously landed a crushing blow was evident in how deathly still her lover's body became. Whatever he felt, whatever emotions he was consumed by—or trying to force to a corner of his soul—was in no way displayed on his face. But his eyes were another story. Fury dueled with pain within the depths of his azure orbs. At that moment, she did not know which gave her greater cause for concern. She never for a moment feared for her physical safety. Emotionally, however, the alarms were sounding wildly. _

_ And in the midst of it all, for some insane reason she was reminded of the actress Whoopi Goldberg's character in the movie Ghost—and the entire time all she could hear was Oda Mae Brown crowing,_ "Molly, girl? You in **danger**!"

_ "Obviously," her reply was slow and measured, "we need some time apart." _

_ "Works for me," he ground out. His visage was unblinking. _

_ "Same here," she agreed. "Besides, I need to spend more time closer to home." _

_ In silence he exited the living room. Upon reaching the door, his grip upon the doorknob tensed ever so slightly as it opened. He knew once he stepped across the threshold he was letting her go. He'd meant what he said when he told her he was tired. A part of him knew she was, too. But as with so many things when it came to dealing with his headstrong lover she simply refused to surrender. Jack cast a glance over his shoulder at Sabrina; the look was equal parts sadness and frustration. _

_ "Good for you, Bri." Jack made a rude noise. "At least now you won't have to worry about dragging around that damn umbilical cord you've been tethered to since the day we met." _

_End of flashback_

**Casting:**

**Dr. Sabrina DeLane: Sanaa Lathan (_Best Man Holiday_)**

**Rosa Sanchez: Eva Mendes (_Hitch_, _We Own The Night_)**


	2. Chapter 02

_"Good for you, Bri." Jack made a rude noise. "At least now you won't have to worry about dragging around that damn umbilical cord you've been tethered to since the day we met."_

The "time apart" was to have been no more than a few days. But 'a few days' turned into a week. A week suddenly became a month. Eventually, one month gave way to another, and another... Soon, they were over.

That had been a year ago.

In that time, they had had little if any contact. Other than her occasional medically sanctioned visits, she rarely journeyed to the West Coast or "his turf"—the Los Angeles branch of CTU, the Counter Terrorism Unit. It seemed the Fates, for the most part, were merciful on those few occasions she did journey to the facility. Her encounters with Jack were either brief or he was nowhere to be found. The latter usually entailed him being off on a mission, a thought she did not like to entertain; it was difficult enough when they were together to tune out the contemplations of danger and violence he was subjected to. Unfortunately, now that he was no longer in her life, such examinations, if she gave pause to them, were the fuel for horrific dreams at worst or barely restrained anxiety at best. Any information each gleaned about the other was almost always via another party; never anyone from either's immediate circle. Always someone along the periphery.

Like now.

When the handsome government official had requested to have his Neurological exam moved up a few months and even offered to come to "her turf" she had thought nothing of the gesture. Generally, after the requisite post-op checkups were done, subsequent exams after brain surgery—even for an aneurysm of the magnitude she'd operated on with him—were only required yearly, some even bi-annually. But this patient was an exception to that rule and not just because of his power and charm.

Ever the shameless flirt, a personality trait she had come to appreciate about him, he'd joked that if he'd known emergency brain surgery was all it took to get a woman as beautiful as her in his orbit he'd have tried to burst a blood vessel years ago. Much to her surprise, Sabrina found herself deviating from her steadfast rule – never cultivate a personal relationship with a patient outside of their initial one which existed as doctor/patient – and forming an acquaintance with him.

Secretary of Defense James Heller was used to being the exception to the rule.

It was an aspect of his personality Sabrina not only possessed herself but one she held a deep and abiding appreciation of. The other traits—arrogance, confidence, charm, ruthlessness, and, yes, sensuality—she was more than familiar with as they were all exhibited by the men she'd known and loved all her life: her father, Viktor Cassadine, and his nephew, her "brother," Stefan Cassadine—as well as the latter's two sons, her "nephews," Nikolas and Andresj Cassadine.

How most of those traits managed to skip the gruff, silver-haired political powerhouse's daughter Audrey Raines both amused and mystified Sabrina. And although Audrey had attempted at every turn to insinuate herself back into Jack's life when he and Sabrina were together, despite her disdain for the soft-spoken Department of Defense liaison, it never impacted Sabrina's interaction with Audrey's father. Besides, _Audrey_ was not the issue. If anything, Jack's ex-lover was more of a non-issue. Something Sabrina was positive that in spite of the monumental headache she could be at times, the willowy, manipulative blonde would probably be crestfallen to discover.

Silently Sabrina admitted if she was being honest with herself, she was thankful; the change in locale meant there was virtually no chance of her crossing paths with the one person who after all this time could still disturb the rhythm of her heart.

_Jack._

The need to direct her thoughts away from those of her former lover was what turned Sabrina's attention back to the conversation at hand; she was not positive but she thought she'd heard Heller mention his name.

"I'm sorry, James," seated at her desk, Sabrina continued scrawling notes in his chart, "did you say something…about Jack?" She said a silent prayer that her inquiry held just the right blend of casual and aloof.

"Yeah, I was saying that as much as I enjoying getting to see you, Sabrina, I'm really glad you were able to squeeze me in now." Emerging from the exam room he smoothly tucked the gray tailored shirt into a pair of perfectly creased black Ralph Lauren slacks. "I get the feeling," he eased on his suit coat, "I'll be pretty busy in the next month…what with Audrey's upcoming wedding to Jack."


	3. Chapter 03

_It was always the same. _

First, the soft fluttering starting deep within that inevitably gave way to a tightening of her inner muscles. Next came the sensation of muted tingling, building from the tips of her toes it seemed and exploding deep inside. Usually, she was able to attain a small form of blessed relief and wrap her legs about his head, a subtle plea to him to cease his ardent efforts. Tonight, there would be no relief. His strong hands, splayed about the insides of her lissome thighs, pinned her limbs to the bed with the greatest of ease as he adored her with his mouth. Each sweep of his tongue against her tiny sensitive nub was designed to elicit a response, be it vocally or physically.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Jack murmured as skilled fingers parted the folds of flesh. Again, his tongue dipped within her warmth, delving deep and slowly, expertly teasing her; giving her a preview of what was still to come. "Let yourself go."

Audrey Raines' entire body tensed. Her lips parting in a silent cry, she swallowed the sounds of her satisfaction. Any cries that did escape were drowned out as she turned her face into the plush pillow and eyes tightly closed – always, _never_ opened – rode out the wave of pleasure.

No sooner had she caught her breath than Jack was rising from between her legs and lowering his body atop hers, positioning his throbbing erection at the entrance of her still over-sensitive sex. With a hoarse cry, he entered her, the sound of his pleasure accompanied by one of shrill surprise from his lovely fiancée.

_It was always the same._

He practically had to orchestrate her participation. Going down on her was a no-brainer, a sure thing; he knew that her response, however reserved, was a foregone conclusion. But sex – almost always missionary style, every now and then female superior…every now and then; _never_ rear entry – was different.

Yes, he enjoyed the feel of her hands gripping the planes of his shoulders; the soft kisses as she stroked his face while she murmured his name. There was a time and place for that. Just not _all the time_. What he wanted—what he _needed_—was the give and take, both physical and emotional, that made the sex not just an act but an experience. He hadn't felt that in a long time.

**_It was always the same._**

"In or out?" Audrey slid her hand across the kitchen table's surface and laced her finger's within Jack's.

"Hmmm?" Jack continued to peruse the file before him.

"I said," she laughed softly, emphasizing the last word even as with her free hand she flipped the dossier closed, "_where_ would you like to honeymoon—in or out of the U.S.?"

Gingerly easing the folder from beneath her splayed hand, Jack could not prevent the smile beginning to ease across his face if he tried; it was hard not to when witnessing the woman before him like this. "You know I'm good with whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever makes you happy."

Several years ago, had anyone asked Audrey Raines her thoughts on happiness, the winsome blonde would have placed the euphoric state in the same category as mermaids or UFO sightings—a highly conceptualized myth, but a myth just the same. Life and loss had taught her that painfully hard lesson. Back then, she had believed the relationship she'd begun with then professionally exiled CTU Agent Jack Bauer marked the start of a new chapter in her life. Estranged from her husband of five years, wealthy international businessman Paul Raines, when she met the ruggedly handsome Federal Agent she was moved in a way she had never experienced before. Perhaps it was the stark contrast in temperaments – where Paul was subtle and at times hesitant, Jack was blunt and confident – or maybe the purely visceral reaction she experienced whenever he was near, a truly foreign sensation to the reserved government liaison; _whatever_ it was, the difference was enough to make her want to pursue a relationship with him.

Much to her surprise, she fell hard and fast—as by his admission did Jack.

Other than, at her insistence, keeping their romance a secret from Jack's then boss—Audrey's father, Secretary of Defense James Heller—their budding relationship had been conflict-free. Until a threat to national security thrust Jack back into the world of violence and danger he had vowed to leave behind. It was a side of Jack she had been completely unprepared for. While she was no stranger to the inner workings of the government, Audrey was not naïve enough to think there were not hard choices that had to be made; dark secrets to protect and even darker acts to be executed. What she was not prepared for was to witness the man she loved carrying out those acts—and doing so without hesitating for even a second.

In the end, the threat was neutralized—but at an incredibly high cost. When the dust settled Paul Raines was dead, the result of a judgment call by Jack: he forced the surgeon to halt the surgery being performed on a critically injured Paul and instead treat a similarly wounded accomplice of known terrorists who possessed vital Intel on the impending threat. Within the span of 24 hours, Audrey had gone from the excitement of anticipating building a life with a new love to the somberness of planning the funeral of her estranged husband. Fueled by understandable anger and grief, a distraught Audrey broke off the relationship with Jack. Already numb from the day's events, just when she didn't think there was any further cruelty life could heap on her, she received news of Jack's—staged, unbeknownst to her—death.

Upon discovering Jack had faked his death—that he was actually alive—her immediate response was not one of anger but, rather, relief. She viewed his 'return from the dead' as a second chance; an attempt to have the life together they were meant to. And make no mistake about it, as far as Audrey was concerned, she was the only woman for him.

It had taken some time – not to mention the agony (and embarrassment) of watching from the sidelines as Jack became involved with the brash surgeon who saved her father's life – but Audrey's belief the union between Jack and Sabrina DeLane was a temporary thing, just pure and simple lust (the woman was nothing more than an educated tart, in Audrey's opinion), had been proven true when the so-called 'relationship' ended.

And somewhere over the course of a year—of time apart and together and averting numerous threats to national security—Jack, to Audrey's delight, had finally come to realize what Audrey had been trying to get him to see all along: they _were_ good together. More importantly, he made her believe it was possible again.

Happiness.

"So," she hedged, "if I want to forego a honeymoon all together and just use that time for us to get settled in D.C.?"

"The move," he reminded her, "isn't definite until CTU has put a new Director of Field Ops in place." He held up his hand, offering up an apologetic smile to ward off what he knew was her forthcoming protest. "Curtis Manning isn't interested. Turns out he's got his eye on the administrative side of CTU; I believe he one day sees himself either in the role of CTU Director or a top spot over at Division."

"_Jack_…" Smoothly easing herself onto her fiancé's lap, Audrey snaked her arms around his neck, stealing a kiss before drawing back to gaze upon him as she raked her fingers through his hair. "You know if it weren't for the fact that I know your department is already short-handed, I'd start to think you're looking for reasons _not_ to vacate your role as head of Field Ops." Although she tried her best to disguise it, the attractive blonde's disappointment was evident in both her tone and body language. "You _do_ still want to return to D.C., right? Make that 'new beginning' we talked about so long ago a reality?"

"Yeah, I do. But in the end, location is irrelevant when it comes to us making a new start, sweetheart. The main thing is that we're together," he soothed. Jack lovingly stroked Audrey's cheek. "The fact is, this is what I do, Audrey. It's who I am. I thought I was ready to walk away from this part of my life all those years ago." He sighed. "We both know how wrong I turned out to be."

"Jack," Audrey began, "I told you then and I'll tell you again now, I do **not** blame you—"

"I know, I know," he nodded. "Fact is, until they can replace me, I can't go anywhere. So let's just concentrate on the things we _can_ control, like this engagement party you're planning," he groaned mockingly.

"I promise you won't have to wear a monkey suit!" she laughed. "It's not gonna be black tie; more like…business formal."

"Okay, okay," he relented. Playfully, he swatted her on the hip motioning for her to get up. "I'll leave both the party and the wedding to you." Leaning in, he placed a whisper-soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll do my part and show up, okay?""

"Works for me," she beamed. "Hey!" Her hand darted out for his. "Do I ever tell you how happy I am?"

"All the time," Jack smiled as he raised her hand to his lips. "All the time."


	4. Chapter 04

_'This must be what it feels like to lie atop a cloud…' _

Even straddled by his muscular form while lying nude and face down upon the bed, she could not help but marvel that it was positively _criminal_ how unbelievably plush the custom-built mattress was. It was not as if the bed was unfamiliar to her. On **this** particular night, however, she seemed to be experiencing it with an appreciation as never before. Then again having the best imported Moroccan oils massaged onto your flesh—from head to toe and all areas in between—_could_ tend to make you feel that way. Who was she kidding? Hell, she could be lying on a bed of nails topped with hot coals, and she would still be in heaven!

Stretching with a grace and sensuousness that was reminiscent of the tawny jungle cats she as of late found herself fascinated by reluctantly the fiery beauty raised her head from the Heirloom Silk Eiderdown pillow. The only thing that made separating her face from its 410-thread count exterior worth it was the incredibly handsome visage smiling back at her.

"Yes?" He knew she found his laugh as intoxicating as his touch, if not more so. "You have a question?"

"Is your Thea feeling okay?"

"Do you mean Sabryn?" His skilled fingers ceased their melodic mastery of her flesh and smoothly buried themselves within the mass of tousled chestnut coils that was her hair. With a firm yet gentle press, he indicated she was to resume her original position.

A nod of her head as she heeded his command, accompanied by a throaty moan in response to his fingers finding a particularly tense spot along her right shoulder blade served in lieu of a reply.

"She is _your_ Thea as well," Nikolas gently chided Gia.

Even after nearly a year of marriage, Prince Nikolai Mikhail Stavrosovich Cassadine knew the only thing his wife, the former Gia Campbell, still approached with more trepidation than her role as the Princess Cassadine was the prospect of lowering her defenses around his beloved Thea Sabrina. At times, it seemed the demands of supporting endless charities, entertaining royals and dignitaries from all over the globe, not to mention navigating the viper-infested waters that was the extended Cassadine family felt like a day at the beach when compared to dealing with his brash, outspoken Thea.

Much of Gia's hesitancy, Nikolas knew, stemmed from his deep love for his Thea. What the former model came to find surprising, however, was how fiercely that love was returned. Gia would never forget how her mouth had snapped shut when Nikolas confided in her he was fully aware, save for his immediate family, how the Cassadine family as a whole viewed him as a runner-up of sorts with regards to Sabrina's affection—and held the same belief about his younger brother Andresj' when it came to their equally beloved Thea Natasha, family council Alexis Davis Taggert.

Nothing, he assured her, could be farther from the truth.

Just as he and his brother loved their Theas equally so did they their nephews. Neither had a 'favorite'; Nikolas' role as Prince, especially in his youth, simply dictated that Alexis spend more time with him. The same held true for a young Andresj'; he and Sabrina possessed similar personalities, thus, to many their bond appeared stronger.

"Yeah, but she _loves_ you," Gia mumbled into the pillow. "Hey! Ow!" she yelped in response to Nikolas delivering a stinging slap to her behind.

"You _know_ she feels the same about you, Gia," Nikolas insisted. "She's just been a bit…distant lately."

"You think?!" Gia exclaimed, her head jerking up. "She hardly said a word at dinner last night. This morning, we _did_ manage to get "Good morning" out of her but that was it. Tonight's dinner was just a repeat of the previous evening." She turned to look back at Nikolas. "Look, I know she said she had a lot on her mind, but she needs to go ahead and handle whatever is bothering her. God knows Cassadines are hard enough to deal with, but _moody_ Cassadines are even worse!"

"_Gia_…" His voice held the faintest hint of warning, but it was soon lost amid the laughter that ensued as Gia playfully began to thrust her behind up to meet what was now Nikolas' straining erection. Smoothly he shifted his weight and with the greatest of east flipped the taunting temptress onto her back. "What am I going to do with you?" he chuckled. Of their own volition his hands began to glide along her torso, even as he slowly, sinuously began to stretch out his body along the length of hers. Cupping her breasts, his gaze began to darken as he rolled their pebbled peaks between his thumb and index fingers.

"You keep doing that, and don't worry, I'll show you," she purred, arching into his touch. Parting her thighs, she draped a shapely leg about his waist. "I will _gladly_ show you."

The rush of a shakily held breath being expelled was the only sound that could be heard in the suite. A perfectly manicured hand's thumb hovered above the "End" button on the phone's display screen as the call's connection blared forth. There was still time to end the call.

"Hello?"

Or maybe not.

"Hi…hi," the caller finally managed. "I am not calling at a bad time, am I?"

"Nonsense." The woman's voice held a melodic quality that seemed to deepen, as if she were smiling when she spoke her next words. "There is never—_ever_—such a thing where you are concerned." She could not be certain, but she would wager the substantial family fortune the party on the other end was now smiling.

"How are you?"

"I am well and cannot complain." A pause ensued; a deliberate attempt by the woman to smooth the sharp edge of concern threatening to lace her next words. "And you? I hope the same is true."

"Like you…I…cannot complain."

"That was _not_ an answer…"

"Know what," she forced a laugh, "you are not going to believe this, but I just looked at the time and didn't realize how late it is. Again, I am sorry for calling so late. I just needed," she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, _wanted_ to talk to you for a few minutes. To see how you were."

"_Cher_…" There was now no mistaking the warning which vibrated through the lone endearment just uttered. "**Enough**." With that simple edict, however fractured or complex their relationship might have been, Celeste Perrault knew her _child_ knew her well enough to comply.

"I am okay, Mama," Sabrina sighed. "_Really_." Her voice trembled; she did not expect hearing her mother's voice would affect her so. Stunned by the wave of emotion overtaking her, fighting back tears, Sabrina clenched the small smart phone so tightly she feared for a moment she would break it. "I…I have to go now. But we _will_ talk again soon. I promise. Good night."


	5. Chapter 05

"Miss Sabrina?" A voice bearing the slightest trace of an accent interrupted softly. "We will be landing shortly."

Slowly tearing her gaze away from the view, Sabrina absently nodded her thanks. When the handsome, impeccably attired sentry maintained his presence, she finally spoke. "Yes, Anton?"

"If I may?" He nodded discreetly towards her lap upon which multiple medical journals (several in foreign tongues) as well as a nearly two inch thick tome on the history of Neuroscience were perched. "I do believe it may prove most…difficult to secure your seatbelt if you still harbor these on your person." With an economy of motion he retrieved all the reading material.

"Thank you." Offering a soft smile, she then complied with his subtle instructions. A curt nod of his head and he was gone.

Grateful for the solitude once more, Sabrina mentally kicked herself. Cruising at 30,000 feet within the luxurious confines of the sleek Gulfstream was not necessary for her head to be in the clouds—it had been there since finding out Jack was going to marry Audrey. An observation which she found disconcerting given her world in no way had come to a complete standstill when she ended things with Jack.

True, there was the requisite initial period of 'sadness' but as with any and all unpleasant events in life, she pressed on. Did she get lonely? Hell yes. But those moments were few and fleeting; her family and small circle of friends more than compensated for those instances. In short, _life went on_. Once the initial shock and pain wore off, her attention was fully focused on her two greatest passions: her family and her work. The latter was an area which she seemingly attacked with an almost renewed zeal in the wake of the breakup. Rare were the occasions an O.R. door swung open at the hospital and she was not the surgeon helming the procedure. General Hospital was where she would currently be if not for her unplanned excursion.

(Sabrina did **not** look forward to what the very skilled and extremely ambitious new hot-shot surgeon Patrick Drake would request as 'payment' for agreeing to her last-minute request to cover her O.R. schedule; she had a sinking feeling it involved two words that had the power to turn even the most imperturbable of surgeons into a swooning, trembling schoolgirl being felt up for the first time: co-joined twins.)

It was an accurate assessment to conclude Sabrina's work was not suffering. Neither was her sex life. Granted, she was the reigning queen of solo satisfaction. By choice. If she wanted a man to share her bed that could easily be remedied. While her philosophy was off putting to some – Sabrina liked men and made no apologies when it came to either her appetite for or appreciation of them – in true Cassadine fashion, she did not give so much as a cursory thought to the opinions of others, only to her wants. And as was befitting a Cassadine, she wanted only the best life had to offer.

She saw no reason that should not apply to the bedroom as well.

If she wanted 'the best' as of late, Sabrina knew all she had to do was pick up the phone and either rub her silk stocking clad legs together, or snap the band on the scant scrap of silk adorning her hips and – depending on his location in the world at the time – upon bearing witness to said sounds within anywhere from one hour to one day she could be taking the ride of her life on (and beneath) the guaranteed good time that was WSB Agent Jericho "Jerry" Jacks.

As he was so fond of reminding her simply put Sabrina and Jerry were the poster children for fuck buddies. They'd not seen each other in almost two years; and while theirs was sexual shorthand that did not take long to resume, she was not inclined to indulge in that which was so very familiar. Even before she ended things with Jack, she'd begun to feel that 'just sex' was not enough. Yet a serious relationship was too much. So, she found a…happy medium.

'Mr. Happy.'

As far as Sabrina was concerned, her battery operated friend (the perfect blend of girth and length) got the job done—and quite well. How well? Molded from a most substantial column of flesh, replete with an impressive ridged head and all too lifelike veins, her 'new best friend' was _so_ realistic the first few times she had to remind herself what she held in her hand was a dildo and not the real deal…

The voice of the captain announcing the jet would begin making its descent served to bring Sabrina's randy thoughts to a screeching halt and return her to her earlier pensive mood. For the past few days she'd found herself giving serious pause to exactly what direction she saw her life taking—and if she envisioned herself making the journey with anyone or alone. So engrossed in her moment of self-reflection as she stared blindly out the window, Sabrina had not even noticed the darkening of the skies.

She could not help but think it was a sign of things to come.

**Casting for Jerry Jacks: Sebastian Roche (Mikael, _The Originals_; ex-Jerry Jacks, _General Hospital_)**


	6. Chapter 06

With its lush, impeccably manicured grounds, abundance of scented foliage, all set against classic Antebellum architecture, the sprawling estate was very much a reflection of the woman who resided there: beautiful, mysterious, commanding.

Celeste Perrault, the Mistress of Maison Blanche, was all those things and so very much more. Muse. Bon vivant. Confidant. Seer. Lover. Mother.

Of all her incarnations, the last was the role she cherished most. However, as with most things in the alluring beauty's life, her relationship with her headstrong, defiant eldest daughter was complex, painfully so. This was no doubt due to the circumstances surrounding her childhood: raised by her father, Sabrina grew up unaware of her younger sister Viktoria's existence; the truth being revealed upon Sabrina's graduation from medical school. The event marked not only the beginning of Sabrina's self-imposed separation from the Cassadines but also the first time mother and child were face to face since Celeste's exit from her life at age five. While Celeste's relationship with Sabrina had proven to be a delicate if erratic work in progress on most occasions, any pain it caused her was overshadowed by the joy she took in watching the bond form and eventually deepen between her daughters; no easy feat, given the temperaments of both women were quite similar.

But the ultimate study in joy and pain and Celeste's most difficult relationship was the one she had shared for the past 30-plus years with her children's father—Viktor Cassadine.

Far more complicated than her relationship with Sabrina, or even that between her daughters, Celeste's union with Viktor was a constant source of discord with her daughters; Viktoria's hatred for her father ran as deeply as Sabrina's love for him. Even more frustrating for the sisters, particularly Sabrina, was their mother's absolute refusal to confirm or deny details regarding her banishment from her eldest daughter's life prior to their reuniting.

Celeste's position was unwavering. For her children she would do and endure anything. But her relationship with Viktor was off-limits and just that, she did not hesitate to remind her daughters—_her_ relationship.

"She will come to you."

As if on cue, the voice on the other end of the phone line cut through the haze of thoughts that had rattled the tawny beauty's nerves for the past two days since she had received the unexpected call from her eldest child.

Five simple words, yet they somehow managed to infuriate the concerned woman to no end. Much like the man uttering them oftentimes did.

"Did you hear me, my love?" Viktor Cassadine was resolute. "She will come to you."

"You did not hear her the other night, cher," Celeste worried. "She sounded so…lost."

"Which is why I say for a _third_ time," he laughed, "she will come to you."

"I wish I was as confident as you, Viktor." Celeste paced about her salon, her slender fingers lightly fluttering about her throat. Skepticism was not a feeling the normally unflappable woman tolerated well. "I also wish you'd have let me take the jet…" she added pointedly.

"Hang up the phone, Celeste, and try to relax. I know my daughter…"

"And _I_ would be able to say the same if you had been more—"

"I am going to attribute your snide comment to anxiety," Viktor interrupted. "But do not worry, my love, should the condition persist I will gladly correct it." His voice was even. "As I was trying to reassure you before you allowed your nerves to get the better of you," he noted, "Sabryn may be impulsive, but rest assured her call to you was not random. There was a purpose. Trust me. You will see."

"You're right," Celeste said softly.

"Is that all you have to say?" Viktor's tone was at its most imperious.

"Goodness, cher. Where are my manners? _Goodbye_."

*click*

For the first time in the last 48 hours, Celeste genuinely laughed. She was so caught up in her amusement imagining Viktor's shocked reaction she did not hear her butler enter the room. At the sound of his voice she spun around…and found it was her turn to be surprised.

"Hello, Mama." Sabrina managed a small, nervous smile. "I _told_ you we would talk again soon."

"_Cher_." The endearment fell from Celeste's lips, tinged with wonder. "Welcome, to my home. Please," she extended a bejeweled hand as she closed the distance between them, "come in."

As she watched Sabrina accept her proffered hand and follow her inside, Celeste exhaled a breath she'd not realized she was holding.

**Author's Note: **With the exception of residing at Maison Blanche, Celeste's history in this story differs significantly from her history on Days of Our Lives (DOOL); none of the children or ties she has on DOOL exist in this universe, only those she has by and to Viktor Cassadine. Speaking of which...

**Casting for Viktor Cassadine: Andy Luchesi (model for Tommy Bahama; Google him...it's _so_ worth your time! *vbg*)**


	7. Chapter 07

With a curious yet reserved eye, Sabrina took in her surroundings.

Before being called away by her butler Xavier, Celeste had promised her a "grand tour" of the magnificent yet eclectic dwelling that was Maison Blanche. As inquisitive as she was impatient, Sabrina, naturally, had set about exploring the mammoth manor on her own. What she discovered surprised her. From the music room which housed not only her mother's collection of sheet music, but an incredibly diverse assembly of recordings, arranged not by name, but by genre; to the array of plush chaise lounges arranged at various locations in the mansion's solarium, as if to provide an area for the room's mistress to drape her form upon at any given moment should the urge to do so strike her. It was evident while replete with the requisite elegant furnishings, works of art, and untold antiques as befitted a mansion, the estate no doubt reflected touches of her mother's personality.

A small part of the normally fearless young woman wondered if she could withstand any further glimpses into her estranged mother's predilections; for they reflected a temperament that was far too reminiscent of her own. The little she had already beheld of her mother's home was serving to rock what was already a somewhat unsteady foundation she teetered upon. If Sabrina had any doubt whether it was so, the room she soon found herself occupying confirmed it.

With each slow, almost painstaking step she took her hands likewise lingered upon the spine of book after book; many leather-bound, an impressive amount of them first editions. Despite her promise to keep her emotions in check, to remain focused, Sabrina instead gave in to the pull to surrender herself to what was always her intrinsic response whenever she found herself in a magnificent library. True, her mother's reading room did not match either the scope of opulence of the Cassadine libraries (neither the ones at Wyndemere nor those of the ancestral home in Greece); but as was such with those sanctuaries it did exude the sense of both comfort and strength Sabrina always associated with the rooms.

Eyes closed, a serene smile etched upon her face, she allowed her head to fall back and dark tresses cascading past her shoulders, almost tickling the small of her back, she inhaled the almost musty-sweet scent of the tomes surrounding her. If she allowed the memory to linger long enough, she was once again a little girl among the throng of books in the ancestral home's library in Greece; she was around four years of age, no more than five. Definitely not past her fifth year of childhood; that was when her world changed forever...

From the just inside the doorway, Celeste watched the moment unfold as if an exquisite ballet; lyrically beautiful move after move executed until a too-sharp turn resulted in a painful misstep. She knew the exact moment when the shift occurred for her child; saw the fluttering across her face of a flash of a pain she had—after all these years—still not learned how to process. The agony was almost immediately replaced by an almost detached acceptance it seemed as she watched the beautiful, unrevealing mask fall into place. Celeste recognized the act and knew instantly among whom her eldest had honed the art of masking her emotions.

The Cassadines.

It was a talent Celeste was all too-familiar with, as she was every bit the master of the form as was her love, Viktor; many were the times the two had waged battle over either's refusal to, if only for a moment, allow transparency to exist between them—and not have the act wielded as a weapon. Sabrina had no doubt, Celeste was certain, borne witness to her father's ability to disguise his emotions; but the tawny beauty knew to her core that her first-born's mastery of the skill was courtesy of the man she for better or worse had positioned as a guiding force in Sabrina's life—Stefan.

Refusing to allow her thoughts to dwell among the tangled, thorny memories of the past, of life among a family whose progeny had given her both moments of great agony and joy, Celeste instead drew strength from her present joy; a moment she quite honestly had not expected to experience any time soon. Her eldest child, of her own volition, in her home.

"There you are! I thought," Celeste drawled as she crossed the library's threshold, "we might take our tea in here." Her languorous delivery of the line had been deliberate, an attempt to give her proud child enough time compose herself; to once again resurrect that 3" thick glass she seemed determined to keep between them at most times.

"That's…that's great," Sabrina nodded as she turned to face Celeste. Mask firmly in place, she took a seat in the nearby high-back leather chair as directed.

"Sorry, I took so long." With a grace so effortless one would swear it had to have been practiced religiously to perfect, she set the tray on the low table, settling her slim form on the nearby settee.

"Is…is everything okay?" Sabrina asked as she accepted the steaming cup of comfort.

"Yes, yes, cher." A dismissive wave of Celeste's free hand indicated the matter that required her attention earlier was of no great importance. "Go on, drink your tea."

Sabrina took a small sip. Moments later her eyes widened as she proclaimed, "Peppermint!"

"It was your favorite…" Celeste began softly.

"When I was little," Sabrina finished, averting her surprisingly shy gaze from that of her mother. "You…remembered?" Sabrina could not prevent the wonder that laced the query if her very life had depended upon it. Immediately, her lovely features flushed with shame as she realized how careless her comment was. "That did not come across the way it was meant to. What I meant was… I mean, I **know** you would remember. I just…"

"No need to apologize, cher," Celeste responded, a loving smile adorning her features. "I understand. Trust me, I _do_." A lifetime of masking pain where loving a Cassadine was concerned concealed the damage the blow, unintentional though it was, had inflicted.

If Celeste's gracious words were designed to comfort her daughter, they were having the complete opposite effect. Her sincerity was evident yet Sabrina could not bring herself to accept it—her guilt refused to let her. Sabrina fell silent, her attention suddenly drawn to the amber liquid at the bottom of the fine china cup she held. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply; something akin to a panic attack seemed to be swelling within. It was as if a flood of emotion was struggling to burst forth; the harder she tried to quell it, the stronger it became.

"When I went to look for you," Celeste's soothing voice broke the silence, "the first place I checked was the Conservatory. You always loved the sun." Her voice was distant, as if recalling a memory from long ago, yet the warmth was still evident. "When you were not there, I went to my music room next. When _that_ room was empty," she gave a soft laugh, "I realized then that I should have set out for my original destination. Your favorite place when you were a child."

"The library," Sabrina replied shakily.

"Yes. You have always loved books, since you were old enough to hold one in your little hands." Celeste reached forth and placed her hand atop Sabrina's, effectively stilling the ever so slight tremble that threatened to send the fine dishware's contents spilling forth. "And _I_ always loved that you did. I knew because of that thirst, that curiosity, your mind would stay sharp; you would never be able to be discounted as just a "pretty little thing." I wanted to make sure you knew how important words were; that words were knowledge—"

"And knowledge makes you strong," Sabrina finished.

"That's right," Celeste beamed. Her heart swelled so at that moment she felt it surely would burst. "Do you remember what I used to read to you when you were little?"

"Yes" Sabrina nodded, "_The Odyssey_. It is still my favorite book to this day," she whispered, her eyes glistening.

"Shh…shh, Sabrina. Do not cry," Celeste soothed. "_Talk to me_, cher," she implored. "Tell me what is the matter."

Smoothing away the tears, Celeste could feel the fissures begin to form in her own heart. Her daughter was hurting and it seemed there was not a damn thing she could do! As she swept a thumb across her child's cheek, Celeste realized Sabrina's current state went deeper than their issues as mother and daughter. She knew what that reaction felt like; especially when Sabrina was in pain. Or angry. Whichever emotion ruled at the time, it wafted off her child in waves when she was consumed by it.

No, this was a pain of a different sort.

As she beheld the turmoil behind her daughter's gaze, realization began to dawn; when its full comprehension washed over her Celeste's breath caught in her throat. _She knew that look_. All too well. What she saw was not a conflict between parent and child.

This was an issue between lovers.

"Tell me about him," Celeste prodded.

Gently, she smoothed away the wisps of hair framing Sabrina's tear streaked face. Even as she offered comfort, Celeste braced herself for the fallout. Her child was as proud as she was guarded, and fully aware she had committed an error of grave proportions by laying herself bare—and before her mother, of all people. Quietly she watched the play of emotions dancing across Sabrina's face. Watched as vulnerability and need dueled with pride and fear…and the former lose.

"What in the world," Sabrina snapped, "makes you think this has to do with a man?" Jerking away from her mother's touch, she angrily sprang to her feet, wiping away her tears in kind.

"Ton, petite fille."_[Tone, little girl.]_ Celeste leveled a withering gaze at her eldest child. "_Ton_." _[**Tone**.]_ A curt but graceful nod of her head towards the vacant chair indicated Sabrina was to return to its confines. Now.

"Fine," Sabrina bit out. Her sullen gaze locked with her mother's, Sabrina quickly deduced the idiocy of challenging the woman before her and complied with her silent command. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Lie to yourself if you must." Celeste leaned in and firmly cradled Sabrina's chin within her fingers. "But do **not** lie to me." Her voice softening, she added, "You did not come all this way to throw a temper tantrum, cher. So, again, I say…tell me about him."

"How do you know…?"

"_Please_, cher," Celeste scoffed. "I am your mother. I may not have raised you, Sabrina DeLane Cassadine, but I **know** you. The two most important things to you are family and your work. The latter is a benign enough subject, one you have no problem opening up about or discussing; so if this were _about_ work, you would have led off with that. Now family? _That_ is a bit more delicate."

Settling back among the plush cushions of the sofa, Celeste crossed her legs. "Now if the source of your pain were tied to Natasha, or my nephews, Nikolas or Andresj? That, with me you would discuss. The same with regards to their mother, Faith. You have no problem 'sharing' any of them with me. However, if this somehow involved Stefan or your Papa?" Celeste made a moue of displeasure as she gave a resolute shake of her head. "There is no way you would be here. They occupy a part of your life—your Papa especially—you are _not_ ready to share with me."

Celeste held up a hand to ward off Sabrina's forthcoming protests. "My child, you are as loyal to and protective of them both as your sister Viktoria is with me. And I accept that." She allowed the statement to linger. "For now." A graceful wave of a slender finger stilled yet another objection. "Thus, that leaves your love life. Besides, cher, woman to woman?" A knowing smile upon her lips Celeste proclaimed, "I have been alive longer than you and _lived_ more than you, so I **know** the telltale signs of heartache."

"I don't know if it's heartache," Sabrina said softly. The admission was followed by a rude noise. "But it sure as hell is…something."

"Well, _whatever_ it is, you can't fix it until you address it." Celeste clapped her hands as she rose from the sofa. "I'll have Xavier prepare us a light supper," she tossed over her shoulder. "We'll talk. And then you can get some rest. Do not worry. I will make sure he has everything to your liking."

"My liking?" Sabrina repeated. Slowly, she turned to face her mother.

"Yes. I'll have him prepare a room for you," she smiled.

"Oh…Mama. I'm sorry. I won't be able to stay." As she watched the smile begin to falter upon her mother's visage, Sabrina rose to her feet and hastened to qualify her statement. "I have a case tomorrow morning; a procedure no other surgeon can perform, save me. If not for that, I assure you, I would remain here. I mean, overnight." Her smile was contrite as she clasped her mother's hand. "I look forward to a return visit." Sabrina paused. "If…you will have me, I mean?"

"Always, Monkeyness," Celeste murmured. She nodded as she beheld the surprise register in Sabrina's eyes upon hearing the nickname she bestowed upon her as a child. Lovingly, she brushed the back of her hand against Sabrina's cheek. "My home, as is all that I have, cher, is yours."

"Well," Sabrina returned the smile weakly, "here's hoping next time I'll have my shit together…"

"Sabrina!"

"Oh, Mama!" she gasped, hand darting her mouth. "I am so sorry!"

"As you _should_ be!" Celeste chastised. "Yes, you are a Cassadine. But never forget, you are also a _Perrault_." Sabrina did not see the sly smile beginning to curve the corners of her mother's mouth. "We **always** have our shit together!" she winked.

Celeste's relief upon witnessing her daughter's laughter was short-lived for moments later Sabrina's lips began to purse and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Following her child's watery gaze across the room to the display of photographs, she could only offer up a resigned sigh as she beheld the reason for Sabrina's sudden change in mood.

"Those are from your Papa," she explained. "He made sure I got to see you…one way or another. Come."

Taking Sabrina by the hand, Celeste led her to the bookcase, directing her attention to a shelf upon which two Victorian styled filigree picture frames were perched and nothing else. The smaller of the two frames contained a 5" x 7" photo of a laughing, barefoot Sabrina on the shore of the Cassadine's private beach in Greece, the surf of the Aegean swirling about her ankles.

"That was taken on your seventh birthday."

The second photo, a stunning 8" x 10" black and white, was more somber; a candid profile shot of Sabrina, her gaze seemingly miles away, set against dark skies. "And this one, I believe you were around 20, not quite 21? My first thought when I saw this photo, of course, was how beautiful you were." She studied Sabrina pensively, a sad smile easing its way across her visage. "My second thought? That you were far, far too young to look so serious. You had just returned to Greece, after your divorce from Julian, correct?" Try though she might, Celeste could not prevent the edge to her voice when she spoke of her daughter's brief marriage to her Cassdine first cousin, Julian Luna.

"You knew about my marriage?" A stunned Sabrina nearly dropped the photo.

"Yes." Smoothly retrieving the photo from Sabrina's near lifeless fingers, Celeste smiled tightly. "Let us just say, it was but one of many…matters concerning you your Papa and I disagreed about. Vehemently."

Eyes closed, Sabrina willed herself to remain calm. There it was again; that feeling of…something similar to anxiety but so very different. Anxiety didn't hurt. And, oh, how this did! This was a pain that ripped at her very soul it seemed. She felt the tears begin to well anew, but unlike before there was no slow trickle; this was more like an overflow.

As if a dam of some sort inside her had burst.

"Sabrina…cher?" Celeste's voice was fraught with worry. "_What is wrong_?" she whispered, cupping her face.

"I…see you…this…," she shook her head, motioning to the photos, "and I can't deny it if I wanted to."

"Deny _what_, cher?"

"You still love him, Mama!" she blurted out. Her breaths were ragged as they were expelled in between strangled sobs. "And…and I know Papa still loves you…no matter… No matter how much you've hurt each other! But the two of you…" She shook her head, her despair almost a living thing. "Why can't you work it out?"

In that moment, Celeste saw past the accomplished, confident 30-something woman before her; what reflected back to her was a child—hers and Viktor's—longing for the comfort of old, the world she once inhabited where, surrounded by the love of her Mama and Papa, in the bosom of her family, _everything_ was alright. Because their love, for each other and her, made it so.

"What have I always told you and your sister about my relationship with your Papa, cher?"

"That the relationship between you and Papa was just that—between you and Papa."

"That's still true. Do you know what else is also true?" She didn't wait for an answer. "That impassioned declaration you just made? That wasn't about your Papa and me, cher. I have no need for you to declare what I already know; what your Papa and I _both_ know. Yes, we love each other. We never stopped. **We. Never. Will.** What you're feeling now?" Celeste posed softly. Gently she raised Sabrina's watery gaze to meet hers. "This is about _you_. This is about you and the man you were involved with, cher. The agent, Bauer? You loved him?"

Sabrina, her eyes fluttering closed, could only nod her head.

"Look at me, cher," Celeste commanded. She waited until Sabrina complied before she spoke again. "And you _still_ do, no?"

"Yes."

"Then the answer is simple, don't you see, cher?" Celeste beamed. "_Go and be with him_, cher! Go to him."

"It's not that simple. You don't understand. What he wants…from me…I can't give."

"Yes, you can," she countered. "You're just afraid to." Her own gaze now glistening with unshed tears, Celeste smoothed an errant lock of hair behind her daughter's ear. "I know what you are feeling, cher. I have lived it. I _am_ living it. And as great as the pain has been at times, I honestly cannot imagine my life with anyone else but your Papa. So I tell you again, if you love this man as much as I believe you to, go to him."

"But what if it's too late?"

"It is never too late, Little One."

From the doorway, Viktor Cassadine's commanding gaze washed over his eldest daughter.

Instantly, Sabrina straightened her posture; her hands, as if by reflex, darting to her eyes to dry the tears.

Viktor did not miss the look of unbridled censure his life's love, Celeste, leveled at him as she beheld their child's reaction to his presence. And for the second time that day, the tawny beauty found herself stunned as she watched her love—her _ma cher_—extend his hand to their child then draw her near and engulf her in his embrace. A few moments later, he offered his hand to Celeste, beckoning her to join them. As he held within his embrace two of the three most important women in his life, Viktor's gaze was unwavering as it came to rest upon the portrait of the third; his youngest child, Viktoria "Tori" Perrault.

"_Never_."

_Later…_

"Is my Little One alright?"

Viktor's smooth, cultured voice sounded almost melodic against the backdrop of the faint breeze accompanying the softly falling rain as it rustled the leaves of the mammoth oak trees outside Celeste's boudoir.

It was a simple question, yet concern fairly vibrated from every area of the difficult Patriarch's body it seemed. Without even realizing it, his embrace of Celeste's sated form—already rather tight—became even more constricting upon posing the query.

Still weary from their second round of passionate lovemaking and fully aware her love was in no way done making her "pay" for her earlier defiance (when she abruptly ended their call), with great effort Celeste turned in Viktor's embrace. Immediately her trim yet shapely form began to shiver; tiny pebbles began to pepper her back which for the better part of the past quarter hour or so had indulged in the warmth generated by the press of Viktor's body against the café au lait expanse.

"She is having a difficult time right now," Celeste admitted. "Romantically," she clarified. Expelling a satisfied sigh, she nestled her body closer to his.

"I was not aware she was involved with anyone."

"She wasn't 'involved,' cher. She was in love. Still is. They broke up. The trouble is she finally accepted the fact that she still loves him after he committed himself to another."

"If it is the government agent she was seeing then it is no doubt for the best," Viktor scoffed. "I will talk to her. She will see that what she is experiencing is fleeting."

Slowly, Celeste extracted herself from Viktor's embrace and sat up. At that moment she was very much like a tawny jungle cat in predator mode. The only light in the room was courtesy of the faint slivers of moonlight filtering in through the draperies. Yet, she had no doubt Viktor could bear witness to her heated gaze.

"Viktor? **No**." Neither Celeste's tone nor her flint-like gaze brooked room for argument. "Stay out of it."

"As you wish," he sighed.

As he reached out to draw her body down to his, Celeste did not miss the small seductive smile playing about her lover's mouth. She knew how he so loved when she sought to engage him in battle. But she was in no way fooled by her lover's silence, nor the smooth caresses he trailed along her body as he lowered her mouth to his. Seconds later, her body was beneath his as Viktor deftly flipped Celeste onto her back. With the greatest of ease he was nudging her thighs apart and settling his body atop hers.

"Oh, no…don't you _dare_ try and placate me, Viktor!" Her slender fingers twined within his hair, she none-too-gently palmed a fistful of silver-peppered locks. "Have you learned _nothing_ from our example, cher? Have you?" Her voice softened as she held his gaze. "We both know all too well what happens when you allow family to influence a relationship."

Celeste did not regret her words, but she knew the moment they fell from her lips a stark shift in mood would ensue. The tension in her lover's body was matched by the terse delivery of his next words.

"You will _never_ forgive me for that, will you?"

"Oh, cher." The naked pain in Viktor's voice was nearly Celeste's undoing. "Can it be, that after all this time you still do not know me as well as you believe yourself to?"

Her gaze softened as with her free hand she cupped his right cheek while she gingerly allowed the other to release his locks then begin an agonizingly slow descent along the planes of his left cheek. Fingers trembling she lowered his face to hers, her breath nearly stilled in the wake of his now molten gaze.

"I forgave you long ago, _ma cher_," she whispered. A feather-light brush of her lips against his followed. Whether or not they softened her next words was difficult to tell. Truth tended to be impervious to such attempts. "I just have not forgotten."

**Casting:**

**Viktoria "Tori" Perrault: Halle Berry**

**Julian Luna: Mark Frankel (_Kindred: The Embraced_)**

******Author's Note:** The character of Julian Luna is _not_ a vampire in this universe


	8. Chapter 08

Of all the myriad decisions that remained for her to make regarding her upcoming big day – how she would style her hair; what gifts she would get her attendants; would she change clothes during the reception or remain in her wedding dress – this, Audrey mused, was one that required little if any effort. The location that would be used for the wedding reception was also the same venue where she wanted to host the impromptu engagement party. Perhaps it seemed a bit backwards to hold such an event and then several weeks later exchange wedding vows, but Audrey viewed the arrival of this moment—marrying Jack—as both hard-fought and long overdue and firmly believed it warranted celebration, even if it was superfluous.

"So…I was thinking about a Friday—early evening, around six o'clock or so?" Phone cradled against her ear, amid the comfort of pastels and floral prints which dominated her bedroom, with the fleeting rays of the setting sun bathing her lounging form in their warmth, Audrey cast a scrutinizing gaze at her feet propped against the windowsill; a reminder to get a pedicure sometime during the week was added to the already considerable notations scrawled in the margins of the steno tablet's list of "to do" items which required her attention. "I'm going to book the Lancaster."

"The same estate where CTU held the reception honoring Ambassador Flynn?"

"Yep. One in the same," she grinned. "That was a _really_ good night for us, Jack. Don't you agree?" Audrey's voice took on a breathy quality and her cheeks began to flush slightly. "You remember, don't you?"

"Yeah…yeah it was." Jack could not help but nod his head; smiling in response to his fiancée's sudden change in mood. "And, uh, yeah…I do."

_Flashback…_

"Oh…my…God, Jack… Yes!"

His strokes slow and measured, with the most gentle of touches, Jack swept the wisps of hair from his lover's brow as he gazed down at her. In possession of keen features which at times neither the camera nor lighting were always forgiving of, at that moment—eyes closed, her lips parted while expelling a shaky breath—as the final vestiges of Audrey's orgasm washed over her she was positively beautiful.

_Tonight was a rarity when it came to lovemaking with the normally buttoned-down government advisor. She had actually relaxed and let herself go. While he was an incredibly skilled lover, Jack knew he could make no claims as to being the reason for his lover's sudden newfound sense abandon – and dare he say confidence – in the bedroom. For that, he—and Audrey—had his _former_ lover to thank. _

Sabrina.

_The moment Jack found out she would be attending the evening's CTU-sponsored gala honoring the renowned Ambassador, he had mentally begun to prepare himself for an evening of indulging Audrey in hand-holding, light touches, and reassuring glances; any and everything needed to encourage his current lover she had nothing to worry about with regards to his ex. Any nerves he suspected Audrey to have been harboring about him coming face to face with Sabrina for the first time since their split never surfaced. Save for the brief but obligatory (and unerringly polite) exchange of greetings, the headstrong surgeon kept her distance for the entire evening, choosing instead to delight in the company of her "plus one," her nephew, Andresj. _

_Although both Jack and Audrey drew starkly different conclusions when it came to Sabrina's behavior – Audrey believed it to be all for Jack's benefit, a convincing performance, but in the end an act just the same; Jack grudgingly accepted his ex's demeanor for exactly what it was, a determined attempt to move on with her life – they shared a common reaction to it. _

**_Satisfaction._**

_For Audrey, the feeling was rooted in triumph; as was evidenced by the look she sailed Sabrina's way as she possessively linked her arm in Jack's when they exited the ballroom. What she could not verbalize she made sure her gaze crowed loudly and clearly: _'Yes, he may be looking at you…but he's **leaving** with **me**!'

_The basis of Jack's emotion was entirely different. Sabrina's presence, more importantly, her choice of companion resonated deeply with him. The man whose arm she was on was not a former lover or her ex-husband. To be accompanied by either Jerry Jacks or Julian Luna, respectively, were choices Jack knew _she_ knew would elicit a reaction from him, however futile or fleeting. No, out of all the men she could have shown up with she had chosen family. _

'Yeah, you're moving on. But you haven't found anyone. Because you're not ready.'

_And so it was as his body tensed, his hips beginning to pump furiously as he barreled towards blessed completion, Jack blindly buried himself in one woman while silently asking forgiveness for allowing his mind – however briefly – to drift to thoughts of another. _

'Tonight, Bri, your bed is as it should be…empty.'

_It was a position of which Jack was neither proud nor ashamed. It simply was. Many would argue his stance was unfair; those opinions mattered not. His position, however unpopular, was truth. _

_And one he had no trouble living with. _

_End of flashback_

His thoughts returning to the present, Jack once again reminded himself that part of his life was behind him.

"Jack? Jack?"

"What? I'm sorry, Audrey. What did you say?"

"I said I'll see you later tonight? You're coming over for dinner?"

Jack glanced at his watch then at the nearly 2" thick stack of files awaiting review still on his desk. It was almost 7 p.m. If he were still in D.C. in his role as Heller's DOD assistant, his workday would've ended nearly two and a half hours earlier. The workday at CTU generally had no designated end, even when the staff was not in crisis mode which was currently the case.

"No, sweetheart. I'm gonna take a pass on dinner tonight. I've still got reviews to finish up here at CTU, and they may take awhile."

"Bring them with you," she suggested. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself while you're trying to work…"

"I appreciate the offer, but I really need to get this taken care of. Besides," he added, hoping to ease her disappointment, "we both know you'll take every chance you can get to distract me, Audrey."

"Guilty as charged," she laughed. "Promise me you won't stay too long…and what you don't finish there you won't stay up too late at home working on?"

"You know me well. I promise," he smiled. "See you tomorrow."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Audrey."

Long after the call ended, Jack found himself deep in thought. The work on his desk was not terribly pressing and in all truth could keep until the next day; his decision to forego spending the night at Audrey's was not so much a nod to his dedication to his work as it was a desire for solitude. As of late, he had a need to have a bit of space just to himself. It wasn't a case of "nerves" or "cold feet" regarding his pending nuptials. No, rather, he wanted to savor the simple act of being alone with his thoughts.

Jack knew if Audrey was around, that would not be possible—nor would it be prudent if his thoughts were to drift, as they'd just done, to times past with Sabrina.

He did not analyze why his former lover was crossing his mind as of late; he simply attributed it to an inevitable occurrence. He was about to start a new life with Audrey; it was perfectly natural to think of his old loves. There was just one problem. None of the former loves that _should_ have crossed his mind—his late wife, Terri; even his widowed sister-in-law, Marilyn—did. Only Sabrina. Jack told himself it had more to do with the passage of time; between the two former relationships, nearly 20 years had passed, whereas the latter had occurred and dissolved within the span of less than two years. The end result, no matter how uncomfortable, was a truth he resolved he had to come to terms with.

Sabrina's life, and who was in it, was no longer his concern.


	9. Chapter 09

Only the combination of cat-like reflexes and years of experience navigating the oftentimes congested halls as a team was being deployed kept the handsome, dark haired sentinel from being doused with the scalding cup of coffee he carried as he sought to end his phone call.

"…well, you just take it easy like the doctor told you." Tony Almeida gave a longsuffering sigh as he neared his work area. No sooner had he taken a seat at his desk than a shadow fell across the table. Nodding, he pointed the party towards the nearby chair. "Michelle, yes, I will _personally_ make sure I get it from Audrey or Jack, Sweetheart," he promised for the umpteenth time as he ended the call.

"Tell Michelle not to worry. I'll check with Audrey about how soon she plans to have the invitations delivered." It was fairly easy to deduce the nature of his friend and colleague's conversation with his very insistent wife as nearly every other word out of Tony's mouth whenever he spoke to his wife of late was either "wedding" or "invitation." "I still have a lot more," Jack slid the CTU-embossed jackets across Tony's desk, "but here are the reports from the last mission, along with the data Chloe was able to compile on the latest target. Figured I'd drop 'em off on my way out."

"I swear, if Michelle isn't careful, all the fuss she's making over the wedding is gonna send her into labor…and she's only just ending her fifth month!" he laughed.

"Well, I hate to get her hopes up or anything," Jack hedged, "but if she's expecting some kind of lavish ceremony, I'm afraid she's gonna be pretty disappointed. This will be pretty low key as far as I can tell; me, Audrey, a maid of honor, a best man, and that's it."

Idly Tony perused a folder's contents as Jack spoke. Eventually his gaze drifted to his watch; seconds later, brow arched in curiosity, it swung back to Jack. "Yeah, speaking of Audrey—you know, the woman you're gonna marry—what the hell are you still doing here, anyway? These coulda kept until tomorrow, you know?"

"It was no big deal," Jack shrugged. He shifted in the chair for a bit before letting his head loll back; silence reigned for several seconds as he proceeded to roll his head counter-clockwise, working the kinks out of his neck.

"You know, I'd ask if you're a bit tense," Tony offered, "but you've been acting anything _but_ the last week or so."

What began as an initial sly assessment of his good friend was now an open perusal. Tony had spent the better part of the week convincing himself he was imagining things; but as he regarded the man before him he realized his gut instinct was not in vain. He needed to say something. True, Jack was never prone to long bouts of conversation. Save for when he was in the field or as required for the job, overall, Jack was not one for displays of emotion. He was beyond the poster boy for stoic. Tony could say with absolute certainty that "off the clock" Jack Bauer was probably one of the least animated people he'd ever met. He once joked to Jack he was the only man he knew who could have a horde of scorpions dropped down his pants and not so much as whimper.

But even for someone as reserved as Jack, Tony found his almost apathetic behavior when it came to his upcoming nuptials disturbing. Hell, he knew Jack would do the same for him if he had the same gnawing feeling something was off.

"Which reminds me, I've, um, been meaning to talk to you about the whole best man thing…," he prompted. "Did you get struck by a sudden bout of amnesia, Jack?"

"Huh?" Absently, massaging the back of his neck, Jack sat up and addressed Tony. "What do you mean?"

Tony stared knowingly at the man who'd seen him through some of the most difficult moments in his life. If not for his current misgivings, he would actually be hurt that Jack hadn't asked him to stand at his side as he declared to family, friends, and the world his love for the woman he was to marry.

"I gotta admit, I'm surprised you didn't ask me to be your best man!"

"Hey, Tony, c'mon. You _know_ I'd have you at my side." Jack sighed. "But it's a family thing I have to make good on. My cousin, Terry."

"Oh," Tony replied flatly. "Him."

Jack took no offense at Tony's less than enthusiastic reference to his kin. Terrence "Terry" Phillips tended to inspire extreme responses; animus and adoration were reactions he was as familiar with as he was the sound of his own voice or his reflection. The handsome corporate financier had managed to amass much success due to his willingness to embrace the situational ethics so often employed by those in his field; that fondness for moral fluidity often carried over into his personal life—hence his less than stellar track record when it came to marriage. Still, professional and personal shortcomings notwithstanding, he was still the one thing Jack had next to nothing in the way of: family.

With the death of his first wife Terri, an only child whose parents preceded her in death, his daughter Kim's connection to her side of the family became nonexistent. Likewise, the deaths of Jack's brother Graem and their father Phillip served to effectively rendered Jack as his daughter's lone source of family—except for Terry, who like Jack's late wife, was an only child whose parents were both deceased. And while Kim had little if any memory of her father's cousin, in light of the paucity of the Bauer bloodline, Jack thought it prudent to at least make an attempt to keep the lines of communication open between him and his cousin.

"Believe it or not, we used to be pretty tight growing up but…time…hell, _life_…we just drifted apart. We became different people." Jack's voice was distant. "Our priorities became different, too."

For Jack, that priority was service to his country; for Terry, it was _servants_ and homes across the country. The two eventually managed to connect again when Jack returned to the States and signed on with CTU; nothing steady, a phone call on birthdays or at Christmas…if either remembered. The cousins' next face-to-face didn't occur until the funeral of Jack's first wife, Terri. Not wanting it to take another sorrowful gathering to bring them together, it was Terry who in a rare act of sincerity extended the invitation to Jack to be his best man as he said "I do" for the third time, making his cousin promise if he ever remarried he would allow Terry to return the favor.

"So, you're basically saying your best friend gets screwed because you made a promise to family you don't even really like," Tony cracked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Jack grinned wryly. "It's the only we we're pretty much guaranteed to cross paths…then return to our respective corners."

Jack did not elaborate any further; he knew Tony grasped that which was unspoken; Jack's contact with his cousin was due more to _formality_ than fondness. For better or worse, neither was the man now they used to be all those years ago; and while Jack would be the first to admit he was in no way a saint, he did consider himself a man who lived by a code—a man of honor. His cousin, it pained him to acknowledge, was more prone to bear that label whenever it could prove to be advantageous to _him_.

"Anyway, what's with Michelle's sudden obsession with weddings?"

"It's not so much your wedding…as it is who may be a potential _guest_ at the wedding."

"I don't follow."

"Michelle is hoping Sabrina will attend…and that her date will be the same, and I quote, '_ridiculously_ handsome man' she was with at Ambassador Flynn's retirement celebration."

"Oh, now I see…," Jack chuckled. "Wow. That was almost a year ago and she still remembers? Then again, now that I think of it, he _did_ make quite an impression on the ladies."

"Speaking of ladies…" Tony couldn't have planned a better segue way if he tried. "I never did ask you, but when's the last time you saw a certain one in particular…Sabrina?"

"I…haven't," Jack replied quizzically. "Other than Flynn's celebration, maybe the last time I saw her was the latter part of last year when Heller flew her in for a quick check up…"

"Oh, yeah! I remember that," Tony nodded. "He and Division had spent the entire meeting going 'round and 'round and he wound up with a raging headache…"

"Swore he was having another aneurysm," Jack cut in.

"And insisted CTU fly Sabrina in to examine him!" Tony guffawed, slapping his palm on the desk. "You'll _never_ convince me he didn't use that as an excuse to have a beautiful woman feel him up!" he marveled. "So, other than that, you haven't seen her?"

"No, Tony," Jack shook his head, his laughter slowly subsiding. "And we didn't even see each other; more like passed each other in the hall."

"So the last time you really got a good look at her was Flynn's party? What was it like seeing her again?"

"I… don't know. It just…was. What do you want me to say, Tony?" Jack shrugged. "I mean, she looked great," he added absently.

"Tell me something I don't know, Jack. Man, she _always_ looks great. I'm not interested in how she looked; I'm more curious about how **you** felt. Did it bother you, seeing her with another man?"

"Huh? No…no," Jack replied, his response sounding a bit too forced even to his own ears. "No," he repeated, this time slower, "it didn't bother me seeing her with someone else. And not that it has any bearing on the matter, but that man Michelle was swooning over is Sabrina's _nephew_. And, now that I think of it, what the hell is up with the shrink routine, Tony?"

"Bullshit. The reason it didn't 'bother' you is because it **was** her nephew. Let her have walked in there with someone she _could_ have gone to bed with later that night…" Tony made a rude noise as he shot Jack a skeptical look. "Please. You may be able to fool yourself, Jack, but you're not fooling me…"

"Alright, you obviously have something on your mind." Jack stood, planting his palms on the desk and studied Tony, his gaze piercing. "C'mon, we've been friends too long to bullshit each other by trying to stand on ceremony. Out with it."

Tony took a deep breath; he had a lot to get off his chest. "Okay. Here goes. After the whole shit storm blew over with the Chinese consulate and you came back as head of Field Ops, I thought you were all in. I mean you were in a pretty good place, professionally…_and_ personally. You weren't a player or anything, but you were putting yourself out there; you and Audrey gave it another go, when that didn't work, you and Kate tried again. Same outcome. Things didn't work."

"But even when you weren't involved with anyone, you were still…_here_, you were present! When you and Sabrina started seeing each other? Man, it was like night and day. You were more alive than I'd seen you in a _long_ time, Jack. Hell…and I don't mean any disrespect – I liked Terri, you _know_ I did – but you weren't even that way when you were married. I barely recognized you when you got involved with Sabrina. But you know what? That was a _good_ thing. It was like you'd finally come back to life!"

"Look, I don't know what happened with you two; I don't wanna know. But since I'm going for broke, I'm just gonna put this out there: there's obviously still something there. And I think you're trying your best to ignore it, but the more you do, the more apparent the truth of the matter becomes. Think about it. You and Sabrina break up. And less than two years later, you and _Audrey_ are about to get **married**? Not only that, but you plan to relocate back to D.C. and step away from **counter-terrorism**? Man, you eat, sleep, and breathe this stuff! It's in your blood. And you're gonna go and sit behind a desk for the rest of your career?"

Tony made no attempt to mask his incredulity as he laughed.

"You call it 'moving on'…I call it _runn-ing_. Nah. Scratch that; 'running' implies active participation. It's like someone flipped a switch and you're sleepwalking through your life all over again. What the fuck, Jack? What **happened**, man?"

Tony was unflinching as he met Jack's gaze.

"Well, don't hold back, Tony. Why don't you tell me what you _really_ think," Jack replied sharply. His intent had been sarcasm but his reply merely came across as angry and defensive. Realizing he needed a moment to regroup, that his irritation was not with Tony but rather with himself, Jack exhaled slowly. "I think the answer's obvious, don't you? Hell, you mentioned it enough in your little soliloquy. You want me to say it? Okay. Fine." His voice softened. "Bri. She happened. Hell…_we_ happened."

Jack went silent. He wasn't in the mood the elaborate. How could he explain it to his friend when _he_ still had moments when he found himself grappling with the emotional fallout of things ending with Sabrina?

"So…you're saying you _are_ doing all this to get away from her?"

"No, I'm not running." Jack was resolute. "What I **am** doing…is...moving on, Tony."

"Really?" Tony's stare was as disbelieving as his tone. "Have you 'moved on' enough to invite her to the wedding?"

"Honestly?" Jack gave a short, hollow laugh. "I haven't really given it much thought."

"Uh-huh. You _must_ be talking about the wedding. 'Cause you sure as hell don't mean Sabrina. Man, you don't just forget a woman like that."

His gaze on the monitor over Jack's shoulder, Tony rose to his feet. A situation appeared to be brewing in Interrogation 3; the sooner he stepped in the better for all involved.

"Hell, Jack, if _I_ still can remember the first time I laid eyes on Sabrina, and I wasn't even involved with her, I know you _sure_ as hell must have some serious recall going on." As he rounded his desk, he couldn't help but smile as he clapped his poor, deluded friend on the shoulder. "See ya."

As he watched Tony walk away, much as it galled him to do so, Jack had to admit to himself the truth of Tony's statement. Impending wedding or no, it didn't take much to make him think of his ex-lover; Jack simply made a conscious effort not to. But when he _did_ allow his mind to 'go there'? Man, it was a _nice_ trip…

"Hell, Jack, if _I_ still can remember the first time I laid eyes on her, and I wasn't even involved with her, I know you _sure_ as hell must have some serious recall going on. See ya."

As he watched Tony walk away, as much as it galled him to do so, Jack had to admit to himself the truth of Tony's statement. It didn't take much to make him think of his ex-lover; he simply made a conscious effort **not** to. But when he did allow his mind to 'go there'? Man, it was a _nice_ trip…

_18 months earlier… (Flashback)_

_As with most things taking place on any given day at CTU, the dynamics of any given situation shifted in a matter of minutes; the New York branch of the agency was no different. One second, Secretary of Defense James Heller was in the midst of delivering a blistering tongue lashing to the staff working the current protocol regarding a potential chemical warfare threat, the next he was swaying on his feet as if disoriented, having trouble remembering (much less repeating) the date, where he was, or even his own name. _

_ After what no doubt had to be 300 of the most paralyzing and terrifying seconds of the government official's life – as well as his daughter Audrey's – it was deduced that the cause of Heller's current state stemmed from a potential cerebral accident of some sort that while the medical doctors on staff could avert, inevitably it would require a specialist to treat—surgically. The sooner the better. As befitting a member of the President's cabinet, naturally, no expense was spared to obtain the absolute best in the field to perform the necessary surgery. A few well-placed phone calls deduced 'the best' was no longer practicing in the field of Neurology and even if such were the case could not be reached as he was in Nepal. _

_ Climbing Everest._

_ "So you mean to tell me the best chance we have of saving my father is on the other side of the world…on the side of a _mountain_?!" Audrey Raines railed. With great effort, she tore her terrified gaze away from the monitors providing a direct feed of the ongoing assessment of her father taking place in CTU's medical unit. _

_ The combination of frustration and fear getting the better of her, Audrey waved off any attempts at consolation from nearby staff members and instead made a beeline towards the determined man entering the conference room. _

_ "I was down on the floor going over Intel when I heard. What the hell happened, Brian?" Jack Bauer barked. _

_ Seconds later Audrey proceeded to launch her sobbing form against Jack's before anyone could even attempt to offer an answer to his question. Burying her face against his chest, Audrey eked out a muffled, "Oh, Jack! What are we going to **do**?!" even as she instinctively snaked her arms around him. _

_ Somewhat awkwardly, the newly reinstated Director of Field Ops embraced his softly weeping former lover, unable to prevent himself from wondering just how the hell he'd wound up in his current predicament, both literally and figuratively. He was only in New York as a favor to Heller; "on loan" from CTU Los Angeles in a strictly administrative capacity due to his first-hand knowledge of information pertaining to a few of the mission's key players. And yet, in the span of less than 10 minutes he'd gone from offering Intel to offering comfort. _

_ While he would in no way abandon Audrey in what was obviously a time of need, Jack could not deny that her inclusion of him in resolving the crisis regarding her father—effectively turning what was obviously a "me" situation into one that now encompassed "we"—was yet another example of how out of sync the two were when it came to the nature of their relationship post-break up. Once again, he found himself entertaining that nagging feeling that occurred whenever they occupied the same space without the common bond of work; that even though Jack had (amid her protests, and as delicately as he could) ended things between them nearly six months earlier, Audrey _still_ harbored the belief the dissolution of their relationship was merely temporary. _

_ "Just…calm down, Audrey," Jack said softly, stroking her back in kind. "I'm sure CTU is doing everything they can to get your father the best possible care." His gaze found that of the agency's Director. _

_ "Don't you worry, Miss Raines," Agent Cole Ortiz cut in. "Look, people, I don't care if this Dr. Carson's about to set the world record for the fastest ascent of Mount Everest blindfolded, without O2, in the _dark_, we need to get him here!" he barked. Seconds later he leveled a disbelieving but nonetheless steely gaze at the surrounding staff still standing motionless in the wake of his declaration. "Newsflash, people! We need to do it _**now**_!" _

_ The baby-faced Director of Field Ops shot the agency Director an apologetic look, grateful he didn't take the opportunity to put him on blast right then and there for essentially taking the helm in a matter that was above both his pay grade and security clearance. It only served to anchor his admiration and respect of the agency administrator; Cole was fully aware the Director knew he was, justly or unjustly, taking Heller's current state personally: it was Cole's team that had blown the surveillance of the target, failure that had resulted in the target still being at large—news that perhaps contributed to exacerbating conditions resulting in the Secretary's current life or death state. _

_ "You can hang up getting Carson down off Everest…and not just because of the logistics." Brian Hastings' reply was smooth, unassuming, yet direct—characteristics that were the very embodiment of the handsome CTU New York administrator. "But Agent Ortiz is correct, Miss Raines. You don't need to worry. We'll ensure Secretary Heller gets the very best care available." _

_ "How?! How are you going to do that?" Audrey cried. "Your own Intel reveals the world's best Neurosurgeon isn't even in the country right now." _

_ "That's actually incorrect," Hastings countered softly. "_One of the best_ is not in the country. But **the best** _is_. In fact she not only is Dr. Carson's protégé, but it gets even better. She's right here in New York…" _

_ "How soon can she be here?" Jack asked. _

_ "If my connections are still as good as I believe they are, soon as I make this call." _

_ Seconds later, a smile threatened to ease its way across Hastings' cocoa hued features as he addressed the party on the other line. _

_ "_Tasha_…" Despite his best efforts, Hastings had to chuckle; the response was just as he expected it to be. "Hey, hey! Don't hang up! I know…I know! I'm virtually persona non grata with you for missing your wedding. No, I _didn't_ know you were on your honeymoon," he winced. "Look, you can read me the riot act over dinner when you get back. But right now, I need a favor, Tasha. A huge one. I'm talking national security-related 'huge'." _

_ "Fine," Alexis Davis Taggert relented, smiling in spite of herself. "What do you need, Brian?" _

_ "Thanks, Tasha. I owe you. Big time." Hastings exhaled sharply, sending up a silent prayer the answer to his request would be the one he sought. "Now, **please** tell me that firecracker sister of yours is _still_ on staff at that hospital in Port Charles…" _

_#_

_"Obviously, this is _not_ how you planned to spend your evening," Brian Hastings deadpanned. As his hurried, determined footsteps led them along the corridor towards the Medical unit his gaze swung to the woman at his side, appreciatively assessing her from head to toe. _

_ "That's right, Hastings, you missed out on _all_ of this!" Doctor Sabrina DeLane quipped, as they rounded the corner. Her gaze straight ahead she added, "Go on and have a good look at what the wrong seat cost ya!" Joining the handsome administrator in laughter she was pleased to see that even nearly a decade later he, too, still derived amusement over the memory a mix-up in seating arrangements resulted in derailing either's pursuit of a blossoming attraction and instead gave birth to a most memorable summer romance for Hastings (and inevitable lifelong friendship) with her sister Alexis. _

_ "If I didn't before, l want to apologize… I know how the Cassadines are about privacy and if there was_ any _way to keep you—and your family—out of this, know that I would have. But they needed the best…" he shrugged. _

_ "Such is the 'down side' at times of being the best at what you do, no? Hey, you should know! How long did you say you've had your eye on the lead spot over at the WSB, but the brass at Division and the decision makers in Washington-" _

_ "'Don't want to upset the unique chemistry I've managed to establish here at CTU New York'," he parroted their patented response. _

_ Hastings wasn't stupid; he knew the powers that be knew that in him they had that rare creature when it came to an agency Director—someone who was both political and productive. His administrative skills combined with years of field experience had forged the New York branch of the agency into one without peer on the East Coast and his rep of being 'tough but fair' was well-earned, garnering him the respect and loyalty of his agents and staff. When it came to navigating the perilous political waters of Division – the policy making and enforcing branch of CTU – he chose his battles carefully; even when implementing their unpopular decisions he always did so with an eye towards what was inevitably beneficial to CTU. _

_ But perhaps the thing that proved to be Hastings's greatest strength also was the reason behind the higher ups' refusal to make his path to their competition a smooth one—whether his resources were abundant or meager, simply put, Brian Hastings produced results. _

_ Like now. _

_ "Again, Sabrina, I really appreciate your helping us out with this. I know what this is gonna cost the Cassadines, so to speak." _

_ "It's_ okay_, Brian." She reached out to place her hand on his forearm and gave the toned expanse a light pat, as if to reiterate her position on the matter. _

_ "That's very kind of you to try and downplay the situation. And even though ultimately your involvement was unavoidable, I know this is_ not _gonna sit well with that brother of yours." Hastings made a face. Just the thought of Stefan Cassadine turning his attention towards_ his_ "corner of the sky" was enough to give him an ulcer. "The man is insanely private, especially about your family. Add to that he wields an equally insane amount of power…" At his last statement realization slowly began to dawn for Hastings. "And the fact that you don't even seem to be breaking a sweat over the Cassadine name now being on CTU's radar-" _

_ "'_Now_ on the radar'?" Sabrina repeated, biting back a laugh. "Brian, please. Humor me all you want, but do_ not _insult me." Pinning Hastings with an incredulous gaze, she arched a finely waxed brow. "Sweetheart, my family tried to freeze the world," she whispered conspiratorially, giving his cheek a light pat. "If _that_ doesn't earn someone a permanent spot on the government's radar," she winked, "I hate to think of what does!" _

_ "So in other words, your brother's got this?" _

_ Sabrina nodded, a silent indicator there was no need for Hastings' concern. Both knew the moment her name was mentioned as a potential physician for Heller, the agency began the process of vetting her; upon confirmation that she was indeed available to treat Heller, CTU's considerable resources were fully unleashed to unearth any and everything about her—which inevitably would turn the spotlight upon her family, who as Hastings had none too tactfully reminded her were as adverse to publicity as vampires were to sunlight. _

_ "I think the fact that the 'dossier' CTU attempted to compile on me_ and _my family doesn't even total three pages gives you your answer, no?" _

_ "Touché, good doctor. Touché," he nodded. "So, we're good?" _

_ "You and I? Of course," she smiled. "Now you and Tasha, on the other hand…" she teased. "I'm kidding. She said to tell you she'll be in touch when she's stateside once more. She's looking forward to catching up with you." Her gaze was pulled away by the unfolding scene inside the exam room. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Brian," she said absently, "I need to go and try to save your Secretary of Defense…before your doctors kill him!"_

_# # #_

_"Doctor Ratner," Sabrina's voice was even, "I suggest you return your attention to the patient's EKG and away from the scene unfolding outside this room." _

_ The raised voices wafting in were difficult to ignore—but not impossible. Unlike the majority of both the medical and security staff present in the room it appeared only Sabrina had chosen to tune out histrionics of the shrill blonde down the hallway. She knew who the woman was; Hastings had informed her she was Audrey Raines, the patient's daughter. _

_ 'Well,' Sabrina noted silently, 'Raines is a pain…in my ass!'_

_ As if on cue, the 'pain' started anew. _

_ "No! I don't want to 'calm down'!" Audrey spat. Angrily, she waved off an attempt by Hastings to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You told me, Brian, you were getting the world's best Neurosurgeon to operate on my father. And instead I come to find out you have him being tended to by…by some…supermodel?! Really, I mean what kind of 'doctor'," Audrey all but sneered the title, "dresses like that?! You said she was at some kind of ceremony…for what, high-priced escorts?!"_

_ "I'm sorry you're displeased, Audrey," Hastings replied. _

_ Silently, he counted backwards from 10. This day was already shaping up to be a category 3 shit storm; he knew if he let Heller's daughter get under his skin it would leapfrog to category 5 in a matter of seconds. Satisfied both his temper and patience were once again in check he addressed the worried but nonetheless grating party before him. _

_ "Still, I stand by my decision to bring in Dr. DeLane. Now, I have no control over how you view her or the—uninformed, might I add—opinion you have of her. But the fact remains, I told you I would get the best surgeon in the world to operate on your father, and I have done just that, Audrey. Right now, she is the only thing standing between your father and otherwise certain death! But, if you feel, based solely on her choice of attire no less, she's not the woman for the job?" With a sweep of his hand he gestured towards the exam room. "By all means, be my guest…"_

_Hastings took Audrey's silence as concession._

_ "Good. Now if you'll come with me, I'd like to bring you up to speed on what the CTU doctors told me about your father's condition." Draping his arm about her shoulder he led her towards his office. "This way, you'll be fully informed when Dr. DeLane is ready to go over her assessment with you."_

_# # #_

_ "Yes?" Sabrina, her back to the door, continued to exam Heller's eyes as she heard the approaching footfalls. "May I help you?"_

_ 'I should_ definitely _get sick more often…' _

_That was the first thought to register for Jack Bauer as he entered the exam room of Medical at the New York branch of CTU. _

_ Upon first glance it would be easy to be distracted by the stunning, statuesque woman at Heller's bedside now, absently it seemed, taking his pulse as she conversed with the staff physician. _

_ No doubt, the halter styled Azzaro floor length gown she wore contributed considerably to the diversion of his thoughts; the egg shell colored garment fit her like the proverbial glove, accentuating a most ample bust and highlighting the curves of what was no doubt an incredible body. _

_ "I was looking for Secretary Heller's daughter, Audrey," Jack replied._

_ Sabrina turned at the sound of the voice – a somewhat gravelly yet low, throaty rumble that she likened to the sound of distant thunder – and was pleased to find the visuals were as striking as the vocals they accompanied._

_ "Are you family?"_

_ "No," Jack replied. "I'm a Federal Agent with CTU; Director of Field Operations. I used to be Special Assistant to Secretary Heller. I'm now…I'm a family friend."_

_ Sabrina proceeded to test Heller's reflexes as she spoke. "Do you have a name, family friend?"_

_ "Agent…Jack Bauer." He stepped closer to Heller's bed. "I take it you're Sabrina DeLane…Doctor Sabrina DeLane?" he corrected._

_ "If I'm not," she looked up and grinned, "things are gonna get really interesting when the surgery starts!"_

_ "Yeah," Jack laughed softly, "I guess they would."_

_ No stranger to beautiful women, there was something beyond the obvious physical attributes on display that piqued Jack's curiosity—a very potent yet intangible air that went beyond the stereotypical "surgeon's ego." She seemed to wear the attributes of confidence and strength as easily and elegantly as she did the designer gown draping her shapely frame. Jack watched intrigued as first her chiseled toffee features hardened ever so slightly in response to something the doctor whispered in her ear that she obviously found issue with then as she turned her attention back to the patient, briefly register a look that could at best be described as approval. Even as the slew of monitors that recorded Heller's vital signs began to broadcast their results in an almost alarming symphony, with her free hand she smoothly placed it atop the chest of the understandably concerned patient as she deftly ceased taking his pulse with the other and gently squeezed the hand, giving him a smile that while no doubt practiced to perfection still somehow managed to convey warmth and above all assurance. _

_ "Agent Bauer," Sabrina began slowly, "I need you to do me a huge favor. Two actually."_

_ "Sure," Jack responded in kind. The beautiful doctor's almost cautious tone was not lost on him._

_ "One, I need to get out of these shoes; my feet are killing me. And seeing as I will be on my feet for the next four or five hours for certain, I need to take what small amount of relief I can when I can. So if you wouldn't mind?" she tossed over her shoulder then slowly but gracefully lifted her left foot._

_ "Yeah, sure," Jack nodded as he knelt before her. _

_ As his gaze fell upon the strappy, bejeweled stilettos silently he marveled never had he found a pair of shoes as sensual as he did those at that moment. With the same precision and delicate touch he used when dismantling a bomb, Jack wrapped his fingers about the tawny slender ankle extended before him. The faint ripple of flesh beneath his fingers was accompanied by what he could only describe as a jolt of electricity coursing through his digits as they gingerly curled about the joint. Seconds later his cerulean gaze darted to hers and found chocolaty orbs alit with surprise holding his stare. Each held the other's gaze for several seconds more until Jack had successfully undone the sandal's jewel encrusted ankle strap and slid the shoe from her foot. Sabrina returned her attention to the situation at hand and Jack did likewise, removing the second shoe in silence. _

_ "Thank you," Sabrina said softly._

_ "You're welcome." Rising to his feet, Jack asked, "What's the second thing you need?" He watched intrigued as the surgeon, a smile of reassurance once again on her face, look towards Heller. _

_ "I need Mr. Hastings in here."_

_ Her gaze never leaving Heller's, she was the picture of calm and confidence. So it was quite a shock to hear her next comment._

_"**Now**."_

_# # #_

_ "**Poisoned**?!" Audrey and Hastings both wore matching expressions of disbelief._

_ "You have got to be kidding me! Are you for real?!" Audrey asked. "My father was poisoned." She repeated the statement slowly, as if doing so would somehow make it less ludicrous. "This is the conclusion from, and I quote_ you_, Brian, '_the world's best Neurosurgeon_…whom **you** chose!" Accusingly she pointed her finger in his direction. "You told me you were getting him the best, Brian," Audrey said through gritted teeth, "_not_ someone with all the intellect of a damn…fashion model!" _

_ "Are you finished?" Sabrina asked calmly. "I am a Neurologist. I know the pathways of the body's nervous system like most people know their own reflections. More importantly, and luckily I might add for your father, I have a…" She paused as the faintest of smiles tickled the corner of her mouth. "Shall we say…an 'intimate' working knowledge the effects of expertly administered toxins." _

_ "I don't understand." _

_ "Of course you don't." Sabrina gave Audrey her most saccharine, condescending smile. "It's all in the file CTU no doubt has compiled on my family, the Cassadines. Trust me when I tell you we are _quite_ familiar with this sort of thing." _

_ "You think this is a joke?!" _

_ "No, I do not." Sabrina gave a resolute shake of her head. "But I have seen first-hand the effects of what a powerful neurotoxin_ can _do. And I am not talking about the type that is medically administered, Miss Raines. Your father is exhibiting all the symptoms. Now you have two options. 1) Stand there and continue to attempt to insult me by making what you believe to be snarky but are really benign comments about my attire and my credentials and capabilities as a surgeon—and in the process waste extremely precious seconds your father does not have. Or, 2) give your consent, shut up, and stand back as I do what not a single person in this building has the ability to." _

_ "And what is that?" Audrey ground out. _

_ "Save your father's life." _

_#_

_"He didn't move while I was gone, right?" Sabrina cracked. As she watched the young agent stationed outside Heller's room struggle to keep at bay the mixture of panic and confusion threatening to cloud his striking features, Sabrina took pity on the obviously tightly wound sentry. "I was kidding, Agent. Secretary Heller just had major brain surgery?" she prompted as she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "He's not gonna be moving anytime soon—the next eight or 10 hours, for sure." The information Sabrina relayed did little if anything to soothe the agent's jangled nerves. "It was just a little medical humor. Emphasis," she added mirthlessly as she entered the room, "on the _little_, apparently." _

_ A quick stretch accompanied a muffled yawn as her gaze scanned the array of monitors before easing her tired form into the chair opposite Heller's bed. She wasn't sleepy but she was definitely tired, one of the main reasons she'd stepped away from observing the patient just long enough to shower—if one could call the scant amount of time she spent beneath the pounding spray of water such. Her intent had been twofold, first and foremost, to wash off the eight hours' worth of sweat she'd accumulated during the surgery; but also in the hopes of bolstering her energy in preparation for the long night ahead at Heller's bedside. _

_ Such an act was neither being carried out because of his role in government, nor at the insistence of his daughter. Rather, when it came to the care of her patients, such conduct was commonplace; as was the case with any high-risk surgery—whether several minutes or several_ hours_—Sabrina would personally observe the patient's post-op progress. If it gave the irksome Raines woman a false sense of power to believe her petulant pre- and post-surgery behavior had resulted in such attentiveness, Sabrina could care less. _

_ Her first and primary priority was, as always, the patient. _

_# # # _

_A light rap outside the recovery room's door drew Sabrina's attention from the outdated copy of National Geographic she'd been perusing for the past four hours. _

_ "Agent Bauer. How may I help you?"_

_ "How's he doing?" _

_ Jack's movements were slow and measured as he drew near the foot of Heller's hospital bed. His reaction, Sabrina noted, was not unlike that of most non-medical professionals upon bearing witness to a patient in a full-on post-op atmosphere. Then again, she acknowledged, the assortment of IVs, tubes, along with variously beeping monitors, especially when attached to a loved one or friend, was a rather overwhelming sight._

_ "Exceptionally well, considering the extent of his surgery," Sabrina answered. Slowly, her gaze followed the nicely built sentry as he crossed the room, the entire time he expertly assessed his surroundings before finally grabbing the nearby chair and taking up residence at the foot of Heller's bed, positioning himself diagonal to the room's entrance. "But right now, visitors, even_ family_—as I had to clarify in no uncertain terms for his daughter Audrey—do not even make the list of items I'm addressing regarding his care right now. Besides, he's so heavily sedated he wouldn't even know you're here." She offered a smile of understanding. "Trust me when I tell you, Agent Bauer-" _

_ "Jack," he interrupted softly, "call me Jack." _

_ "Okay,_ Jack_," she nodded, forcing a smile, "I'll make sure you're notified if there is even the slightest change in his condition. I'll be here all night." _

_ "That makes two of us, doctor." His body language left no doubt as to the sincerity of his words. "Look, let me try this again," he stood, softening his tone. _

_ Jack was fully aware he was trying the beautiful surgeon's patience, yet he found himself strangely intrigued, moved almost, by the sense of fire she harbored within that seemed to be just on the verge of springing forth. _

_ "Secretary Heller was poisoned; you said so, yourself. That means someone tried to take him out. Now, this facility is one of the most secure in the world, and the chances of anyone being able to get past the security and weaponry housed here is virtually impossible. But what makes me the best at what I do, Dr. DeLane, is I don't take false comfort in that. I don't subscribe to the belief it won't happen; I operate on the premise it will. But it's my job to make sure it** doesn't**." _

_ "Point taken, Agent…I mean, Jack," she corrected, adding softly, "and call me Sabrina." _

_ It had been a long evening for all involved, she reasoned. No sense in creating conflict where none existed or was necessary. Also, she had to admit, she could focus better with the knowledge there was someone as undeniably capable as him around. _

_ "What is that?" Sabrina asked, closing the distance between them. In full-on "doctor mode" she gave no thought at all to invading his personal space as she leaned in while pointing to an area on the left side of his neck; she watched as a slow trickle of blood began to issue forth from a nearly 2" cut of some sort. _

_ "Damn." His hand now at his neck, Jack's fingers gingerly trailed along the angry area of aggravated flesh. "Guess I almost caught one while giving Ortiz an assist out in the field." _

_ "I presume when you say 'caught one'," she leveled a disbelieving stare at him as she drew back, "you're referring to a bullet, no?" _

_ "Yeah," he winced. Suddenly the area was throbbing like a bitch. _

_ "You said you_ almost_ did, though, correct? You weren't actually shot?" _

_ "Nah." _

_ "Well, would you like me to take care of that for you, Superman?" _

_ "Superman?" Jack looked at her, his gaze a mixture of amusement and curiosity. _

_ "Yes. As in how it appears bullets just seem to bounce right off you?" Sabrina could not help but laugh at how matter-of-fact he was in response to his injury. "The way I see it, I figure if you're going to be Secretary Heller's personal guard 24/7 for the duration of his recovery, we kinda need you fully operational, no?" _

_ Jack watched as Sabrina motioned for him to follow her and with an economy of motion directed him to take a seat atop the nearby counter as she riffled through the nearby rolling cart of medical supplies. _

_ "Is it gonna hurt, doctor?" he cracked. He had to admit he found her teasing, lighthearted mood, much to his surprise, contagious. _

_ The smile she gave him as she gave a graceful glance over her shoulder was one of pure devilment. "Only if you want it to." _

_ Minutes later, she stood before Jack, depositing the last of her supplies on the counter. Smoothly she wedged herself between his thighs, her smile fading as she did so. "Actually, this_ will _hurt a bit." Raising the syringe for him to view, she promised, "But only for a few seconds. You'll feel something akin to a wasp sting." _

_ "A wasp? What the hell happened to doctors lying to the patient and telling them it would feel like a mosquito bite or a slight sting?" he teased, drawing back. "Hell, now that I think of it, if you liken the pain to a wasp sting that means it's probably 10 times worse…" _

_ "I won't lie. Even with the numbing agent it's going to be pretty uncomfortable for a little bit. However, it's positively_ painful _without it." Smoothly, she slid a gloved hand behind his head, effectively anchoring his neck in preparation for the injection. "I need to really get down in there and clean the area out before stitching it up." Syringe poised in her free hand, she angled it away from his neck and extended her middle finger, gently grazing the slender digit along the nicked area. "It may look like just a scratch, but a wound like that has the potential to turn nasty." _

_ Jack tilted his head away, surprised when she maintained her grip upon the back of his neck. He reached across, gently taking her hand that held the syringe by the wrist. "No anesthetics." He gave a light shake of his head in response to her raised brow. "It's not what you think. It's not an attempt to be 'macho.' I just want my head completely clear; I don't want anything to slow me down while guarding Secretary Heller." _

_ "Very well." Nodding, she put the syringe aside, retrieving the dampened gauze and with the middle finger and thumb of her free hand positioned them on opposite sides of the gash, applying the faintest amount of pressure. "I will try and be as gentle as I can." Lightly she pressed against the wound in preparation to spread the area open. _

_ "It's alright, Sabrina." His gaze straight ahead, Jack bit back a smile. "Trust me when I tell you I've been subjected to worse in my line of work." Moments later, she leaned in and pressed the antiseptic-laden gauze against his flesh. Jack promptly responded with a muffled, "**Fuck**!" _

_ "I'm sorry," she apologized, still meticulously tending to his wound, "just a_ little _bit longer…" _

_ "No…need to apologize," he offered through clenched teeth. "Just…caught me off guard, is all." _

_ In theory, that admission was true, Jack reminded himself. _

_ His emphatic reaction had not been a result of the good doctor's actions—she had not even begun to scratch the surface of what constituted 'discomfort' for him—but rather was in response to the_ doctor_, herself. Their first physical contact that evening, he had dismissed. Even in light of the latent air of sensuality that seemed to swirl about the two of them, he considered it a fluke; some strange yet potent byproduct of the adrenaline generated by the evening's events. But upon encountering her again, he felt that strange stirring once more; to attribute it to adrenaline a second time not only seemed inaccurate but also insulting. What he was experiencing in some strange way was almost primal in its intensity. As a result, when it became apparent there would be physical contact between them once more, for a reason unknown yet still heeded by him—even with the thin latex barrier of her gloves separating them—he resolved to mentally prepare himself for her touch. _

_ To brace himself for her scent never occurred to him._

_True, earlier his senses had been awash in the subtle yet spicy fragrance she had adorned herself with. But the bouquet which greeted him now—that of a freshly scrubbed, perfume-free Sabrina—had served to rock him to his very core. _

_ "You doing alright, Superman? You're awfully quiet." Although she was intently focused on suturing his wound, the laughter in her words was evident. _

_ "Yeah," Jack bit out. Although he sat motionless, hands resting atop his thighs, internally he had a white-knuckle grip on the countertop as he struggled to keep his thoughts focused—on anything but the woman whose face was but inches away from his. _

_ "There!" Sabrina announced with a flourish. "All. Done." As she removed her gloves, she rattled off his wound care instructions, reminding him to make sure to keep the area covered when showering and teasing him if at all possible to try and avoid being put in a headlock for the next 10 days. "How does your neck feel?" _

_ "A little sore. And tight. But that's just around the area where the bullet grazed me." _

_ "That's to be expected. It's due more to the stiches than anything else. They are a bit tight, but I assure you the discomfort will lessen in a few days." _

_ Admiring her handiwork, she reached out to run her finger along the area and was brought up short as Jack's hand darted out and smoothly took her by the wrist. She was about to assure him she wasn't going to do anything to disturb the wound when she looked in his eyes and realized his action had not been one motivated in response to pain. Quite the opposite. Sabrina was about to speak when the sound of footfalls interrupted her. _

_ "Yes?" they responded in unison to the intrusive party. "I…uh…need...I mean, I want…" Cole Ortiz sputtered as he sought to tear his gaze away from Jack and Sabrina. Physically he was able to register that it was obvious Heller's doctor had tended to a wound of some sort Jack had. But in his mind? He couldn't explain it, but for some reason he felt as if he had just walked in on an incredibly intimate moment between a couple. _

_ "Cole?" Jack prompted. "You were saying?" _

_ "Oh, yeah! I wanted to let you know the report of the mission you assisted on is ready," he finally managed. "And it'll be upstairs in Hastings' office. Just need you to sign off on one or two things then it's good to go." _

_ "I'll be there in a bit." _

_ "Good then," Cole nodded. "I'll…just be…going then," he added, backing out of the room. _

_ As he cleared the other side of the door, Cole was struck by the fact that during his entire exchange not once did Jack divert his gaze from Dr. DeLane. _

_ Or let go of his hold upon her wrist. _

_# # #_

_ "May I have my wrist back, Jack?"_

_ "You've got another one," he answered. He smoothed his thumb across her pulse point. A steady, rhythmic throbbing ensued; directly in contrast to the cool, almost aloof façade that now greeted him. "Besides, I rather like this one."_

_ "I'm sure you do," she smiled. Smoothly, she began to extract her wrist from his grasp._

_ Jack noted the smile came off more as polite rather than sincere and wondered as to what was the cause of the sudden shift in mood between them. Undeterred, he pressed on. Just as it appeared she was free of his grasp, Jack tightened his hold. _

_ "Have dinner with me." _

_ Dipping her head, Sabrina bit back a smile. Try thought she might, she could not prevent the soft laughter threatening to escape. _ He most definitely gets points for determination_, she noted silently. _Among other things_, the tiny voice reminded her. She took a moment to compose herself then adopting her most haughty air, raised her gaze to meet his. _

_ "I'm gonna make this easy for you, Agent Bauer." _

_ "It's Jack, remember?" _

_ "Fine…Jack? I don't date. I have sex or I have relationships." Her wrist still within his grasp, their gazes locked, once again a soft smile—this time, one filled with challenge—turned up the corner of her mouth. "And I'm not interested in a relationship." _

_ "Do you eat?" _

_ The corners of her eyes began to crinkle in amusement before the bark of laughter tore from her throat. Head thrown back, she guffawed in response to his unexpected reply. _Oh, yes_, she noted softly, _he was definitely different!

_ "Yes," she continued to laugh, "yes, I do!" _

_ "Well, how about we continue this over dinner?" Jack smiled. "Not a date," he quickly added, chuckling softly, "just… dinner."_

End of flashback

His gaze sweeping the room as he prepared to leave CTU, Jack was struck by an unexpected feeling of wistfulness. By choice, he was going home to an empty house. But not for much longer, a tiny voice taunted him, and not on this side of the country, either. That last thought hit him hard. He'd made California his home; but in approximately in a year's time, or less if Audrey had any power to make it so, that would no longer be the case. Jack honestly did not know which he would miss more, CTU or California. He gave a bitter laugh. What did it say to him—hell,_ about_ him—that this place—CTU—even in light of all it had cost him, felt more like home to him lately than anywhere else?

It wasn't always that way.

He'd known the feeling of 'home' even when he did not occupy the actual physical space. He missed that feeling. Hell, he missed the one who stirred it to life. _Sabrina_. She was clear across the country, on the opposite coast. But there were times, nights like tonight, when he could feel her as powerfully as if she were beside him.

But she wasn't.

Forcing down the thoughts of times and memories past, Jack grabbed the stack of files off Tony's desk and tucking them beneath his arm headed out. The past was just that, he reminded himself; he needed to concentrate on the future.

With Audrey.

He loved her; maybe not as strongly as she loved him, but it was love just the same. Besides, it wasn't all about 'love'… They_ could_ have a good life together.

Not the life he wanted, but a life just the same.

**Casting: **

**Terrence "Terry" Phillips: Aaron Eckhart (_I, Frankenstein_; _The Dark Knight_)**


	10. Chapter 10

_"This is about you. This is about you and the man you were involved with, cher. The agent, Bauer? You loved him?" _

_ Sabrina, her eyes fluttering closed, could only nod her head. _

_ "Look at me, cher," Celeste commanded. She waited until Sabrina complied before she spoke again. "And you** still **do, no?" _

_ "Yes." _

_ "Then the answer is simple, don't you see, cher?" Celeste beamed.** "Go and be with him**, cher! Go to him." _

Of all the moments from her impromptu visit to her mother Sabrina entertained on the flight back to Port Charles, and there were many, it was that lone decree by her mother she found the most difficult to accept. And ignore.

_ Go and be with him…_

Sabrina did not have to wonder if it truly was that simple; merely showing up on Jack's doorstep and making her intentions known. The truth of the matter was it_ was _as easy as that. No, what gave her pause and could still make her insides clench and leave her palms damp was what was required of her—submission. The only other prospect as terrifying was an experience that was equally foreign to the beautiful surgeon._ Rejection_. While it was not a possibility she enjoyed entertaining, the pragmatist in Sabrina knew she had to evaluate all sides of the equation and then, as her beloved brother Stefan had taught her, consider several_ additional _outcomes.

Of the two prospects—submission or rejection—Sabrina was at a loss to determine which was the greater cause for hesitancy in heeding her mother's advice.

Her mind screamed it was the former; it_ had _to be, she reasoned. After all, save what was required of her as a Cassadine, she had lived the better part of her adult life deferring to no one and had neither the desire nor could she conceive of a_ reason _to change that now. And for of all things…love?! _'Thanks, but no thanks,' _was Sabrina's position on the subject. Past experiences of letting her guard down and extending her trust and her heart only to have the act result in betrayal or, even worse, abandonment —Sabrina's greatest fear—had left her jaded; the pain although buried deep within the recesses of her mind and locked away still had the ability to stir to life with crippling intensity. Like now.

Her heart, however, was coldly almost cruelly echoing it was the latter, rejection, which had proved to be the victor in this uncomfortable confrontation of truths. Yet it wasn't so much the prospect of being rebuffed by Jack that frightened Sabrina. Again, as a Cassadine she was a pragmatist. She had entertained that outcome._ Rejection. _Make no mistake, she wouldn't like it, but she would live.

As she settled back within the plush confines of the Gulfstream's leather seat Sabrina found her mind drifting to thoughts of Jack; she had many to choose from but inevitably her thoughts fell upon memories of the early stages of their union as she delighted in them most. Reminiscing was far more pleasant than addressing the lone unsettling thought that had been her constant companion since she'd learned of Jack and Audrey's upcoming wedding: She was facing the very real possibility of a life without Jack.

And just as it was all her doing, so it was that only_ she _could rectify the situation.

Flashes of memory invaded her thoughts…

_Night time. New York's skyline serving as a backdrop. Dinner and drinks at the ultra-exclusive New York steakhouse, chosen by Sabrina when Jack informed her he'd built up quite an appetite as the day had progressed. _

She could not prevent the smile curving the corner of her mouth as she recalled his reaction upon her arrival…

_"Sorry...," he began as he rose from the table, "my mind was somewhere else for a moment." _

_ "On my legs, I do believe," Sabrina laughed as she slid into the booth. She chose the coal black one-shoulder Donna Karan cocktail dress for that very reason; that it served to highlight her curves was an added bonus. "Perhaps you're imagining what they would feel like...wrapped around your waist?" _

_ "Are you always this direct?" Jack coughed in between sips of his scotch. _

_ Her laughter rang out as she watched him smoothly recover. "Only with those whom I know will appreciate it. May I?" She reached for his drink. With the ease of a person who had a proclivity for the finer things in life she savored the amber liquid upon her tongue, giving an appreciative nod at his choice. "You do not strike me as a man who has time for games, Agent Bauer. I can assure you, I am no such woman." She smiled. "What I am, however, is astute enough to realize that you are as attracted to me as I am to you. Why should we stand on ceremony when it comes to such a truth?" She gave a graceful shrug of her shoulders. "Would you not much rather...enjoy that truth?"_

A smile still adorning her lovely features as she gazed out the jet's window, Sabrina basked in the memory of that evening, their dinner; how for nearly four hours they engaged in conversation that was at times frank, occasionally hilarious, quite often overtly sexual, but always intriguing. One thing was abundantly clear to both parties—things were going to be very promising.

Just not on_ that _night.

_ Flashback… _

_New York. A luxury Penthouse suite in a posh hotel in the City. Three weeks after a very sexually charged conversation over an unexpectedly derailed dinner, two would-be lovers went about the task of "negotiating" the terms of their unique arrangement…_

_"Condom?" he repeated. His molten cerulean gaze locked with soft brown pools glittering with defiance. _

_ "It's nothing personal, Jack. It's more of a…symbolic thing for me."_

_ "Did something change…did I miss something since the last time we saw each other? You're acting like this is going to be a one-shot deal…"_

_ "Oh, no, no! On the contrary," Sabrina insisted. "I do believe you and I can have an…arrangement than can prove to be mutually satisfying to us both for as long as either of us so desires."_

_ "Well, if it's all about 'satisfaction,' then a condom…" He shrugged, letting his words taper off. "Let's just say, that might prove to…I don't know…dull the full effect?"_

_ "Is that so?"_

_ "Yeah, it is," he nodded. "Tell you what. Let's not insult each other's intelligence, Sabrina. Given the resources we both have at our disposal, we each know all we need to about the other's medical history. There's no need for rubbers. And you're far too smart – and sophisticated – to not have your shit together when it comes to birth control." A faint smile turned up the corner of Jack's mouth. "Speaking of which, 'control' is what this is all about."_

_ "Is that what you think, Agent Bauer?"_

_ "It's Jack, remember? Call me Jack," he murmured. "And, yeah, I do." He smiled in an effort to clamp down on the surprisingly rising irritation he was feeling in response to her smoothly but nonetheless deliberately evading addressing the issue. She was shifting into that cool, aloof mode like she'd done back at CTU the night they met. It bothered him then; it was driving him crazy now. "But I'm fine with that," he bluffed. "Completely. If that's how you want it…," he shrugged. "If you insist."_

_ "It is. I do."_

_ Jack watched the last glimmer of satisfaction register in the defiant surgeon's eyes and for a fleeting moment he swore he witnessed the briefest flash of something resembling surprise, as if she had been expecting to encounter more resistance if not an outright fight from him. As she turned to walk away, a knowing, almost arrogant smile tickling the corner of her mouth, Sabrina's last coherent act was to gasp the handsome Federal agent's name once more in response to him taking her by the waist with lightning-like speed and crushing her body to his._

_ His mouth descending upon hers for a ravenous kiss, what scant remainder of protest or even defenses she possessed were lost as she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal press against her._

_ If she harbored any questions as to if the enflamed government sentry's desire for her was real, they were soon answered as Jack stealthily took Sabrina's hand and slid it between their bodies, bringing it to rest between his thighs. _

_ Against the irrefutable proof of his intent._

_ As the kiss ended, unflinchingly, Sabrina returned Jack's stare. "So, what are you waiting for?" It took every ounce of her resolve to keep her voice and hands steady. "Are we gonna do this or what?" _

_ With a determined, deliberate thrust into her skilled hand Jack's message was loud and clear._

_ "What do you think?"_

_ "Fine," she said slowly. Her power of speech was still a bit unsteady. "Bedroom's this way." With a nod of her head she indicated the direction he should follow her as she turned away._

_ As he replayed her earlier queries over in his mind Jack realized he had found the answer to the question that had haunted him since the evening of their dinner date. Correction, he reminded himself, chuckling softly, their **dinner**. The fiery surgeon had not taken the time to regroup; to try and regain control of the reins when it came to their encounter, so to speak. As far as she was concerned, nothing had changed. But as he appreciatively watched her saunter away, Jack noted to himself that nothing could be farther from the truth._

_ This was happening._

_**They** were happening…_

End of flashback

"Miss Sabrina?"

"I am sorry, Anton," Sabrina replied. "Did you say something?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I was informing you we have landed and we must disembark. It is time."

For several moments Sabrina sat motionless, both the power and truth of the sentry's innocently uttered statement seemingly have struck her with the force of fist to the chest. She swallowed to remove the lump in her throat. If ever there was a sign or portent, that had to be it, she reasoned ruefully.

"Yes," she finally managed. Nodding resolutely, she rose to her feet. Her decision had been made. "It_ is _time."


End file.
